Life's Little Bumps and Bruises
by punkteacher
Summary: Sequel to Everything's Eventual. Beau and Charlie and the rest all return as life seems to fall in to place for some and fall apart for others.
1. Its Perfect

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

**

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope all of you that were so devoted to Beau and Charlie and all the others have followed them into this story. There's a lot in store for all of our favorite Ducks as well as Beau, Rachel, Kimball, Casey, and of course…Devin. I hope you love them as much here as I do! Please read/review. You're input is invaluable!**

* * *

"Can you believe that you've been married almost three months now, Mrs. Reed?" Beau was sitting on the front stoop with her phone watching warily as boxes were carried past her. 

Rachel sighed in her ear. "No." She giggled. Beau couldn't believe it. Rachel Monroe – oops, Rachel Reed – was giggling. "I can't even get used to the new name." She sighed again. "It's nice though now that Fulton is done playing for the season. I actually get to see him at home from time to time."

Beau nodded, knowing the feeling, and cringing a little when a mover nearly dropped a box. _If everything makes it in the house unscathed, we might find ourselves ice-skating in Hell later tonight._ "Is there still talk that Fulton's getting traded in the off-season, Rach?"

This drew a sigh of a completely different nature. "Yeah, although I think now it's more than just talk. Fulton thinks that the management here believe they don't need as many big enforcers as they have and with his injury earlier…well, it makes him prime target, you know?" She lowered her voice. "Fulton says he's not upset, but I don't think he really wants to play for the Bruins, which is where he thinks he'll end up. There are a lot of rumors that it's a team in turmoil, so we'll see."

Beau wrinkled her nose. "Fulton can fit in wherever he goes. What does all of this mean for your job?" In her mind's eye, she could picture Rachel shrugging, something she had picked up watching Fulton do it habitually.

"There are conservation projects going on everywhere. I can find work wherever we go." She laughed a little, clearly ready to change the subject. "Enough about us though. Soooo? How's the new house?"

Grinning, Beau hopped to her feet, planting one hand on her hip and turning around to look up at her and Charlie's new home. After the wedding they had shared her apartment, but they both wanted a yard and a dog and…space. Not to mention sky. In Detroit you couldn't see the stars at night and it drove them both crazy. So today was moving day.

They had bought a two story historical colonial home in a Detroit suburb. With Charlie's hockey salary and the money coming in from Beau's books and the movie based on them, they could easily have bought some monstrosity with eighteen rooms and a garage big enough for twenty cars. But both had worried that with a house like that, they would have eventually needed the extra seventeen rooms for their egos.

As it was, they were thrilled with the old brick and beautiful white shutters. There was a massive back yard, fenced in and boasting an impressive pool. They would spend their money making the inside as absolutely comfortable as possible.

Beau grinned. "It's great, Rachel. **Really** great." She frowned, thinking of all of the boxes to be unpacked. "I wish Charlie was here to help with all of the moving-in hoopla, but you know how it goes." She paused, knowing Rachel would ask where he was. "He's got the Easton photo shoot and promotional tour this week, but then he's got a few weeks off, so I should quit complaining." She had the whole week to unpack by herself. That was okay, though. It gave her a chance to get together her surprise for her husband.

Rachel laughed. "Ah, the life of a hockey wife."

"It's great isn't it?"

"It totally is."

Beau's brain started working. "Hey, do you have any time that you could take off?"

Rachel thought for a moment. "Probably. We're kinda between projects right now. Why?"

She was grinning, Rachel could hear it. "I could use your help with something."

* * *

"Really? Jason the Jerk is actually being fired?" Adam slowed down on his roller blades so that he could hear Kimball as she chattered excitedly. Coming to a bench on the sidewalk that ran along the beach, he sat down and pulled his shirt up to wipe off his face. Being Adam, he was completely oblivious to the two girls running by and the fact that one nearly knocked the other one over while nudging her to check out Adam's abs. 

Kimball, for her part, was pacing her office (cubical), grinning like a maniac. "Well, not fired so much as demoted. He's being sent to an affiliate station in Kenosha."

Adam grimaced. "**Wisconsin**? Man, what on earth did he do?"

Kimball dropped the smile. "Supposedly sexually harassed the new intern, which I'm not sure I believe, but when they tried to talk to him about it he flew off the handle acting like a…" she searched for the right word. "Well, like a jerk."

"Imagine that." Adam's voice was dry. He and Jason had not gotten along since the first day that they had met, when he had been screaming at Kimball.

"I suppose I'm being a bit childish in my excitement with him leaving, but that's not the only reason that I'm busting at the seams. Get this…" She trailed off, inviting him to guess, and Adam smiled. After almost a year of dating she knew exactly how terrible he was at guessing anything and yet she asked anyway. He hazarded a guess.

"They're moving you into his slot?"

Her laughter was deafening. "Adam, has it totally escaped your brain that he was the sports reporter?"

He smiled himself. "No."

She laughed again. "Hi. I'm Kimball. Have we met before? Because if we had you would know that they would never in a million years put me on sports. I'm an idiot when it comes to that. You **know** that!"

He could hear her smile, and it sent his heart racing. _How crazy for that to still be happening when I talk to her every day._ Adam was in way deeper than he had imagined he would be, or could be, after Julie had broken his heart. He was daydreaming about Kimball and what she must look like pacing her space, probably resembling a caged cat ready to pounce, wild red hair streaming behind her or yanked up in a thoughtless bun. Her voice broke his concentration.

"Keegan, who's on main desk now, always wanted to do sports, but Jason was here. Now he's gone. Adam, they're putting me at 10."

She said it so softly that he wasn't sure he had understood correctly.

"What was that?"

She huffed out a breath and the wonder in her voice was evident. "Starting on Monday I am taking on the main desk. I'm going to be a nighttime news anchor."

* * *

"Holy crap!" Charlie was standing in the middle of the open foyer, legs spread, head swiveling from side to side. Beau could hear him from where she was in the kitchen and couldn't help but smile. "Holy crap!" He said it again and she figured it was, in his very own way, Charlie's attempt at calling her in to meet him. She dropped the towel she was wiping her hands on and sauntered slowly towards the front door. 

She cracked up when she saw him standing there, bags dangling from his hands, his huge mouth hanging open. She stopped a few feet short of him, leaning in to plant a light kiss on his check, and then drawing back to cross her arms in self-satisfaction.

"I'm going to take that 'holy crap' to mean that you're pleased with the unpacking that I've done."

He finally shook his head, sparking eyes focusing on hers. "Pleased?" He dropped his bags brusquely and rushed towards her to pick her up and swing her around once. "I thought I was going to come home to a maze of boxes and stuff everywhere." He dropped her down roughly, getting an eye roll in return, and looked around. "Look at this place! It looks like we've been here for a year instead of a week."

Beau crossed her arms once again. "What can I say? I rock."

He grinned in her direction. "That you do." Suddenly his eyes widened and he bounced a little in place. Beau was forcefully reminded of a five year old she used to baby-sit for. "Oh ooh ooh. Did the theatre seats and the screen get here?" He was already on the move towards the basement and Beau rolled her eyes, calling after him.

"Yeah, they were installed. I'm good thanks! I had a great week by myself. Yes the weather's lovely!" She trailed after him, knowing he was completely ignoring her. When she made it all the way down the stairs she couldn't help but laugh lovingly when she saw him. He was standing in the front of their home theatre, mouth still agape at the plush burgundy seats which Beau considered fit for a king. Slowly he turned in a circle and stared even more riveted at the huge screen that was rising up from the floor.

"Oh…wow." After staring at his new room more tenderly than he often looked at Beau, Charlie turned to beam at her. "This freakin' rocks."

Beau only rolled her eyes and turned on her heel and headed back into the kitchen. She had been antsy all day for his return. Her surprise could wait a little longer.

Charlie played around with his new toy – sound system – for another half and hour before finally trudging upstairs looking completely satisfied. When Beau only smiled at him over the bowl of penne al vodka she was stirring, he smiled sheepishly. "I'm going to go put away all my stuff upstairs. You know," he winked, "as in not leave it lying all over the bedroom. I'm even going to put things in the hamper."

Her voice was dry, but pleased. "Impressive."

He was halfway out of the room before he turned around. "Am I going to find more of this amazing 'everything is already unpacked' when I go upstairs?"

She frowned, dropping her spoon and licking some sauce from her thumb. "Actually, I ended up having the movers put some of the furniture in different rooms than we had talked about. I hope you don't mind. Want me to come up and show you?"

He smiled, patting her butt as she ambled past. "Sure."

At the top of the winding wooden staircase Beau dropped the small bag she had carried and motioned for Charlie to drop his as well. She went to the first bedroom and stepped inside. "I kept this a guest room like we talked about."

Charlie looked around, nodding appropriately as she pointed out the quilt they had gotten from her grandmother and the painting she had shown him a month ago, knowing he had been paying no attention. Mostly, though, he was just impressed she had gotten so much down in a week. _He doesn't know the half of it_, Beau thought.

Walking all the way down the long hall she bypassed a closed door and went to what they had planned as another guest room or a large office. She screwed up her face a little at Charlie. "I know we talked about the bigger room back down the hall as your sports and game room, but I made an executive decision to move it in here."

Charlie didn't mind really, but couldn't understand why. It's not like they needed huge guest rooms. He was just getting ready to say so when she flung open the door. "Holy crap."

Beau chuckled. "You said that already."

Charlie took a few steps in and turned in a small circle. The wall directly in front of him was painted the bright red and white of the Detroit Red Wings who he currently played for. His MVP award from the most recent season was held on a shelf, encased in glass, next to his individual trophy from when they made it to the Stanley Cup Finals in his second season. There was a replica of his jersey in a huge plexiglass box near the ceiling in the center of the wall.

To his right, the wall was painted Pennington State Wolfpack red, black and white, and there was a huge rendition of the school logo in the center of the wall. It was flanked by two framed jerseys, one that had belonged to him, and one that had belonged to Beau when she had played there as well. The wall was also littered with various other awards and recognitions they had received during their college years. The best though, were the many photos framed and labeled with tiny plaques.

A little overwhelmed, Charlie turned to his left and was confronted with a black wall accented in the District 5 Ducks green and purple. A huge Duke logo graced the center of the display. His jersey was there, of course, along with a variety of news articles. But the real show-stoppers were the literally dozens of framed photos of he and his friends. Beau knew, clearly, how important to him they were.

In the center of the room was his prized pool table, and in the corner Beau's favorite thing that he owned…his classic 1985 Galaga/Pac-Man arcade game. He walked over, running his hand over the joystick and then turned around to view the room from that angle.

The barrage of colors was a bit of an assault on the senses, but Charlie couldn't think of a more perfect room. "How did you do this?"

She leaned against the door jamb. "Well, I flew Rachel in under the pre-tense of helping me unpack, but really just because I wanted to see her."

Charlie nodded knowingly. "That explains the giggling I heard when I called the other day."

She laughed. "Yeah. But it turns out she was actually really helpful." She walked over to the Pennington wall, smiling at a newspaper photo of her and Guy, heads bent close together as they sat in the player's box during a game, most likely discussing strategy. She ran her hand over the mural of the school logo. "And I had an artist come in to do these. I thought you'd like them."

He joined her, hugging her from the side and kissing the top of her head. "I like them a lot, Conway."

She nudged him away and headed towards the door. "I love it when you call me that." She beckoned him to follow. "Come see the other room."

A few seconds later they were standing back at the first door at the top of the stairs. She stuck a hand in her pocket, the other hand on the doorknob. Her voice was extremely casual and Charlie raised a brow at her. "I thought we could use this room in, oh…say, seven months?" Without another word she threw the door open and gave Charlie a little shove inside.

He looked around, breathless, unsure he had heard her right.

The walls were painted celadon green with six inch thick teal stripes running vertically every three feet or so. _Bright and beautiful_, he thought. Under the chair rail everything was painted a darker shade of teal. Sitting by one window was a distressed white wood rocker and the aforementioned windows were now cloaked in cheerful ruffled curtains with wild colored animals marching across them.

The thing that he was most stuck on, though, was centered between the two huge bay windows. It was a beautiful white wood crib, also distressed to look old, but even in his shock Charlie could tell it was brand new. It was filled with plush linens in khakis, and greens, and blues and various modern geometric shapes. Hanging above it was a merry mobile featuring the same animals that were trekking across the curtains.

Beau leaned against the door holding her breath as Charlie stood stiff in the middle of the room, completely silent and staring at the crib. Finally, he turned very slowly and his gray eyes were bigger than she had ever seen them. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then closed it again. Beau could stand it no longer and edged forward a little, unconsciously laying a hand on her still flat belly.

"What do you think…**Dad**?" The word sounded foreign on her tongue and she could see the whole thing register in Charlie's eyes. On a quick intake of breath he darted forward and yanked her into a fierce hug, his lips descending on hers in a breathless kiss. Then, just as quick as he had started it, he jumped back three feet, his face paling.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" He took a tentative step forward, thinking how hard he had hugged her, and laid a hand over hers where it was again placed over her stomach.

She smiled, touched. "I'm wonderful. This is wonderful, right?"

He captured her face between his hands, staring at her. "This is **perfect**."


	2. I Feel Like I'm Going to Puke

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"I feel like I'm going to puke." 

Adam couldn't help but laugh. Kimball actually sounded as if she might hurl at any second. He was sitting at home on his couch and checked his watch. _9:45_. She was going on soon. "Breath, Red." He heard her suck in a breath and grinned as he thought about her doubled over, head between her pretty little legs, sucking in air. "If I get in the car right now I can be there by the time you go live." He eyed the coffee table, making sure his keys were in a findable place incase she said yes. "C'mon. You know you want me there."

"No!" She yelled it in a disproportionately loud voice. Breathing deeply again she quieted. "I mean, thank you for offering, but I think I'd be twice as nervous if you were standing right here in the studio staring at me."

"Okay." Adam was a little hurt that she didn't want him in her sightline for her big news anchor debut. He always felt better playing when he knew that she was there.

Kimball sensed the bruise in his voice. "Adam, please don't be upset. I just want you to be proud of me. I'd die if I embarrassed myself and you were right here looking at me. At least this way I can wait a few hours before I see you and get embarrassed all over again. I like to spread out the embarrassment." She smiled, knowing that her self-depreciation would get to him.

He sighed. "I know. I just want to be as helpful as possible. If letting you be embarrassed from a distance is better than I can respect that." He smiled now and the sound of it in his voice eased her rolling stomach a little. "Besides, you're not going to embarrass yourself. You're going to be great." Adam looked down at his watch. "Uh, it's like 9:50. Don't you think you should go sit down or get ready or something?"

"Oh, God!" She was frantic again. _Great_. Adam could just picture her running through the news station hall. "Why didn't anyone come and get me?" _She isn't even listening to me now_. _I should hang up_. Adam rolled his eyes and laughed at her.

"Kimball." He said is in a normal voice and she completely ignored him as he listened to the sound of her heels racing across linoleum. "Kimball!" He imagined her skidding to a halt and shook his head. She really was a whirlwind, which had been his first thought the first time he had seen her.

She was breathless. "What?"

"Break a leg."

* * *

"I feel like I'm going to puke." 

"Again?" Charlie shrank back in his chair on their screened-in porch and held his book up in front of him like a shield when Beau shot a glance at him that could have killed if she had the ability. "Sorry."

"Yes, **again**," she growled. "Just like yesterday and the day before and the day before that and the three times already this morning." Taking a few deep breaths she tried to lie back in the chaise she was stretched out in and then took a very small sip of her club soda before grimacing. "Gross. Whose idea was it that caffeine is bad for babies? I miss my regular soda." Pursing her lips she closed her eyes and tried to avoid having to run for the bathroom. As the feeling finally passed she laid a hand over her stomach, vowing to remind her first child often of the pain they had caused her…in a loving way of course.

Charlie eyed her, thinking the crisis had passed. He raised his book up, hiding his face and looking carefully over the top. "You look beautiful, you know." He meant it. He had heard that expectant mothers glowed but it was the absolute truth with her. He couldn't remember a time in all the years that he had known her that she had looked more beautiful. Even when she was glaring at him he was loving her being pregnant. As he had that thought though, Beau stuck her own book up before her face and he almost thought she hadn't heard him.

Not even sparing him a glance her reply was dry. "Stuff it, Spazway."

* * *

A fifteen-year old Devin was sprawled out on his bed, pouring through a book. Beau had sent him the preview copy of _The Mighty Ducks #7: Jordan and the Prep-School Disaster_. He was laughing out loud at her characterization of a teenage Fulton Reed at Eden Hall. He had met her friend a few times and thought that the character in the book seemed dead on. Thinking for a minute, he pulled pen from behind his ear and made a quick note on the side of the page for her to draw out the current hockey scene a bit. 

Looking back at what he had written he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride that he had a hand in the seriously popular series of books. And it certainly didn't hurt when he had been trying to fit in at his new school this past semester.

That thought brought a quick pang to his heart and he glanced across the room at a picture of his mother tacked to his bulletin board. It had been over a year now, but he still missed her almost daily. He loved his father and he was really liking California, but his mother had always understood him in a way that no one else could.

There was a knock at the door and he turned towards it. "Come in!"

Archie Kellerman poked his head in the door. "What's up, kiddo?"

Devin sat up and waggled the book. "Helpin' Beau out."

Mr. Kellerman crossed his arms over his chest in a frightening imitation of a rapper. "Cool, yo."

"Dad…" Devin rolled his eyes. "No."

They shared a laugh before Archie turned his attention to the muted television where a pretty redhead was sitting behind a news desk smiling prettily and talking about something they couldn't hear. "She looks familiar."

Devin nodded, turning up the sound. "She was at Beau and Charlie's wedding. She's dating one of the groomsmen, their friend Adam Banks I think."

"Oh right. **The** Adam Banks who plays for Anaheim." They watched in silence for another moment. "Hey, buddy. I've gotta get headed out to work."

"This new schedule they've got you on sucks."

He laughed a bit at his son's honest assessment. "It does indeed suck. But someone's got to manage the night crew, you know? It won't be forever." He moved closer to the bed and laid a hand on Devin's head, a little surprised as he always was that the kid had somehow grown into a teen-ager in what had seemed like only a year or two. "It won't be forever though. I'll actually get to see you some closer to the end of the summer, okay?"

Devin nodded again. "It's cool." His father nodded and headed out the door. As an afterthought, Devin called out, "Love you."

Almost all the way down the hallway Archie smiled to himself before hollering back. "Love you to. Sleep some tonight!"

**

* * *

antiIrony**: I'm so glad you GLOVE me! Hahah Thanks for tuning in already!

**Ky**: Thanks for spending so much time on Everything's Eventual and then following the story here. I hope it fills out your summer as you hope!

**Myself**: Thanks and me too!

**Duckfluff**: I'm so excited to see some of my faithful reviewers already reading this story! I was nervous no one would! Yeah, Baby Conway. Any suggestions for gender of name? Help!

**Hockey-girl90**: Thanks for sticking with me!

**Roxxxy**: Thanks! Yeah, baby on the way. Hmm…think they would be a hockey player? We'll see! Wink wink.


	3. Months Plural

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"A local man is in a great deal of pain at an area hospital and he is also in some hot water with federal game commissioners tonight." Kimball followed the teleprompter, eyeing her co-anchor pointedly as if to say 'oh dear.' In her head though, her mind was in fifty thousand places. _Sit up straight. Don't tilt your head back. Don't mess with your hair. Smile. Don't smile too much! Quit fidgeting with your pen. You're talking too fast. _Her mouth was on auto-pilot and her nerves were going haywire. 

"Forty-two year-old Costa Mesa resident James Ariano was fishing today when he caught what he thought was a real prize. The twenty pound fish, though, was a species under endangerment suspicion an is currently on the catch and release list. Ariano took the fish home to serve his wife for dinner and he may never have faced any fines or charges had he paid a little more attention while filleting the animal."

Kimball stopped at the end of the sentence. _Oh, God._ She had been reading without thinking and the word filleting had come out as fill-et-ing instead of the correct fill-ay-ing. She was sitting frozen on the stage, a smile plastered on her mouth. _Everyone is going to think I'm an idiot. _She could feel the blush creeping up her cheeks as a cameraman waved his hand in the air, signaling her to keep reading on the now unmoving teleprompter. _Oh, God._

* * *

"Oh shit." Adam had heard the mispronunciation and had not thought that much about it, but now that Kimball had realized her mistake she was making it worse – much worse – by looking mortified. 

He covered his face with his hands and peeked out through between his fingers. She still wasn't talking.

"Why isn't her co-anchor taking over? Say something, man!" But Kimball's partner seemed as shocked by her silence as she was. Adam could just imagine Jason sitting in Kenosha, Wisconsin, hopefully freezing his ass off (who cares that it was summer), watching this on the internet and laughing his face off.

He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, barely breathing. It had only been seconds since the whole thing started, but it was starting to feel like an eternity. His voice was a whisper, imploring. "C'mon. You've got this."

* * *

Somewhere, way back in her head, Kimball mentally kicked herself. _Do something! Do anything!_ The scream shook something loose and she found her mouth able to work again. What do you do when you screw up that fundamentally? You keep reading of course. 

"While cutting of the skin of the fish, Ariano accidentally severed his thumb and was rushed immediately to the hospital. He is recovering now, but a paramedic had to return to the house to retrieve the appendage and, as an avid fisher himself, recognized the species and called the authorities."

Tom winked in her direction from his chair. "Well now that's what you call a whopper of a fish story."

She smiled back, still acutely aware of the heat on her face. "Yes it is, Tom."

And then the show just continued on as planned. Crisis over.

Sitting back on his couch, Adam sighed heavily. "I am **so** glad that is over."

* * *

"It's official." Fulton stormed through the door of the condo he shared with Rachel and threw his entire hockey kit against the closet door. Rachel winced when it bowed under the pressure, but mercifully didn't break. She knew better than to say anything. When Fulton was worked up like this, it was best to let him get it out at his own pace. 

He paced in a circle around the dining room table where she was sitting, piles of grant papers spread around her, and kicked at the corner of the wall viciously. "I got traded." She had expected anger in the statement, but what she heard was disappointment, raw and real. He looked at her only briefly before stomping into the living room and sliding down to the floor in front of the couch. She saw that the dissolution was residing in his eyes as well.

Giving him a moment she straightened her papers and then dropped her glasses on the tabletop before following him in. He had his head dropped back on the cushions, staring at the ceiling, the television on but the volume so low it was inaudible. He didn't acknowledge her presence as she walked over and nudged his head until he acquiesced and lifted it up. Swinging a leg around his shoulders she sat behind him, her knees on either side of his shoulders. Rachel cracked a knuckle, making Fulton smile. It was a habit she had picked up since moving in with him.

She laid her hands lightly on his shoulder and then began kneading where she felt the tight knots of tension. Letting go he dropped his head, moaning a little as she ran her knuckles up his neck. After several minutes he let out a deep sigh and raised his elbows up to rest on her knees, letting his hands dangle. "I **like** playing with this team." He signed again, dropping his head heavily back into her lap and looking up at her. "I like the coaches and I get along really well with the other players."

Rachel leaned forward, tracing her fingers lightly through his chin length straight black hair. She liked that he had let it grow. She was directly above his face and looked seriously at him. "And you don't want to try to have to fit in somewhere else, yeah?"

He sat up and moved slightly away, briefly trying to play it cool. "Nah, I mean it's just easier to play with guys you're already comfortable with." When Rachel only sat silently he cursed himself for trying it with her. She knew him so much better than that. His head bent he swept his hair back roughly before looking up at her. "I've really only every played on three teams, you know? There were the Ducks and then there was the Wolfpack."

"Which was pretty much just an extension of the Ducks." Rachel tucked her legs up under her, sitting Indian style.

He nodded, pleased that she got that. "Exactly. Coming here after that…I've never been the kind of guy that just fits in easily, you know? I'm comfortable here." He gestured at her. "**You're** comfortable here."

She thought about it for a long minute, the silence in the room growing heavy. When she finally spoke her voice was gentle but he could hear the tone there that told him to listen-the-hell up. "That was the fifteen year old you, Fulton. You've grown up." He opened his mouth to respond and she reached out and gently pinched his lips shut. Despite everything that had happened that day he smiled. "You're a good man. You'll fit just fine in Boston." She squared her shoulders a little bit, trying to look brave. "And **I** can fit in anywhere."

He reached out and grabbed her hand where it still held his lips. With one powerful yank he had her in his lap, laughing. He planted a kiss hard on her mouth which turned into something much more intimate very quickly. He finally pulled away and squeezed her tightly. "I love you."

* * *

Adam was prowling his townhouse from top floor to bottom, the cordless phone clutched in his hand. _Where is she?_ He had tried calling Kimball probably fifteen times since the ten o'clock news had ended and every time her darn cell phone went straight to voicemail. "Argh." He slammed the phone down on his bathroom counter and ran his hands through his hair, staring at himself in the mirror. _She should want to talk to me right now. Why doesn't she want to talk to me right now? That's what boyfriends are for, right?_

He shook his head at himself, rolling his eyes. _Get a grip, Banks. You're such a woman sometimes. _He was constantly over-analyzing things with Kimball. _Thanks a lot, Julie_, he thought.

Their breakup shortly after college had started had set him into a tailspin. He had been very much in love with Julie, thinking she was the perfect girl for him. She was intelligent and self-assured and loved hockey as much as he did. Apparently, Julie had felt they were **too** much alike. _Would have been nice if we had talked about it before she threw me to the curb from two thousand miles away._

Scowling at himself he tried to stop dwelling on the past. Just because Julie dumped him out the blue didn't mean that Kimball would do the same thing. _But where the hell is she?_

A soft knock at his front door tore him from his reverie and he bolted down the stairs, nearly killing himself in the process. He reached the door and threw it open.

* * *

Kimball had seen her phone ring every single time that Adam had called and every single time she had pushed the button to send him straight to voice mail. She felt bad doing it, but she wasn't quite ready to face him yet. 

She had received a barely controlled yelling at by the director of the news program and had managed not to cry there, but she had been less than comforted by her co-anchor patting her on the back and saying, "It wasn't **that** bad." Not just, "It wasn't bad," but "It wasn't **that** bad." _Fabulous_.

But now, an hour later, she thought she was finally ready for some well-meaning Adam comfort. God knew she had done it enough times for him over some cruddy moments during games.

She had knocked at his door tentatively, feeling badly for not answering his calls. _He's probably pissed. _But when Adam threw the door open, the look on his face was pure concern. The picture of him standing there, looking the way he looked, stopped her breath for a moment.

He was framed by the door, the bright light from his living room silhouetting him against the dim porch light. He had one hand on the door jamb and the other poised tensely on the door itself. He looked disheveled, his straight hair a little mussed and his big blue eyes were focused intently on her, made to look even bluer because of the blue t-shirt he was wearing. His jeans were hanging low on his hips, a small tear spreading on the knee and the bottoms frayed where they hung around his bare feet. She knew what his feet looked like because she was staring at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. She had thought she was over the worst of the humiliation but seeing him brought it all back. She knew he had been watching. Finally she found her voice.

"I'm mortified."

* * *

Adam couldn't stand that she wouldn't look him in the eye. Here voice was so soft when she finally spoke it broke his heart. Reaching out he laid a finger gently under her chin and forced her to look up at him. "It wasn't bad." He said plaintively, meaning what he said. For him it was no longer a big deal. 

Her chin trebled gently against his finger and her green eyes turned watery. "I turned bright red on camera didn't I?"

He thought about it, deciding damage control was better than an outright lie. "You were a little pinkish." He pulled his hand back, resting it in his back pocket. She kept her head up, but the pending tears didn't dissipate.

"I was **red**, Adam."

Smiling a little, he nodded. "You were red." She nodded solemnly. "**It**. **Wasn't**. **Bad**." He punctuated each word, hoping something would sink into her thick head.

* * *

He knows just what to say. Not "It wasn't **that** bad." Just "It wasn't bad." Kimball's heart raced a little as the force of her love for Adam blindsided her. 

Somehow the mixture of that and her persistent humiliation had a strong hand squeezing on her resolve not to cry and she felt the tears rising up in her throat. She felt her eyes fill for a second time while standing on Adam's doorstep and looked at him helplessly. She opened her mouth to say something, but the only thing she was able to get out was small and strangled sounding.

Finally giving up she let out a sob and covered her face, embarrassed, her shoulders shaking. As she continued to cry she was dimly aware of Adam sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her into his house, kicking the door shut behind them.

* * *

As Adam and Kimball were solidifying the connection between them, Guy Germaine was sitting outside the small home in the Minneapolis suburb that he had recently bought himself. He was in the backyard watching as his new boxer puppy, Attila, was racing around chasing his own tail. It made him laugh, but then a sharp pang of unhappiness shot across his heart. 

Looking around at his yard and his grill and his tiny little patio, he couldn't help but be disappointed that he was sitting there alone. Taking a long swig of his beer he turned his hazel eyes up to the stars and let the wind blow across his cheeks.

They had made plans for Connie to fly out and spend a few weeks. He had turned down teaching summer school to make time for her during the off season. And then she had cancelled. She was going to spend a week with Julie and then she had some endorsement stuff to do.

Never mind that she and Julie saw each other when their teams played. Never mind that she and Guy had not seen each other in months now. _**Months**.__Plural_, he thought to himself, taking another drink.

He could feel them drifting apart and it was breaking his heart in tiny little measures. The worst part of it was that he had no idea what to do about it. _She's gotten too big for you, Guy._ That was the thought that kept creeping into his mind.

When they had been kids, making plans, they had talked about playing hockey in college and then both going pro and eventually settling down, having kids, retiring when they had made enough money between the two of them to raise a family. Nothing had seemed to go according to plan though.

Connie had gotten drafted to the women's league right out of high school and fast became one of their biggest stars, immersing herself wholly in that world. Guy had gone on to play with Charlie and Beau and the others in college but then his plans had stopped when he didn't get drafted to play pro.

Something inside of him had drawn him to teach, despite Connie's concerns with it, and he knew that he had found what was important to him. He loved stepping before his classes everyday and trying to shove some knowledge into his student's heads without them realizing they were learning. That was the trick of it. He chuckled to himself. _Guy Germaine loving talking in front of a group of people. Who'd have thought?_

He loved coaching hockey. Yeah his team wasn't the absolute greatest, but he was giving an opportunity to kids who might not have had it otherwise. How could he not draw the parallels between that and his District 5 days and the opportunity he had been given? No wonder he loved it.

The more that Connie loved playing pro, the less she made time to visit, and the more she put off conversations about marriage the more Guy couldn't help but wonder if the path he had taken was one that would forever separate him from the one Connie was making her way down.

The thought had his heart stopping. Looking at his watch he contemplated calling Beau to talk about it. She was always such a good sounding board for his problems, letting him talk and not giving empty advice. If she had something to say, she said it. If not, she just let him vent. It was probably one of the biggest reasons that they had remained such close friends.

_It's late_, he thought. He was still considering calling when Attila bounded up the steps and into his lap, licking his face mercilessly. Laughing (how could you not?) he scooped the puppy up and headed into the house, tossing his bottle with perfect aim into the recycling bin on the way.

**

* * *

antiIrony**: Sorry about the length on the last one. I'm having trouble getting into it. What's wrong with me? Ahhhh!

**Duckys**: Why thank you very much.

**TamPhuoc**: Yes indeed. Devin's been helping since the other story. You can expect much more of him soon.

**AdoptedThug**: Thanks. Yeah, I think the idea of Charlie with a baby could be quite hilarious. We'll see.

**Johnny**: Glad you're liking it so far. Yeah, I'm pretty pleased with Beau. She rocks, huh? If you get a girl like her do I get to have a guy like Charlie? It's only fair.

**Joank**: Sorry there's no Beau and Charlie in this chapter to give you your fix. Don't worry. I think if their kid wasn't mischievous there would have to be some question of if it was switched in the hospital.

**Duckfluff**: Thanks for the input. I'm still torn. We'll see. I'm glad you're pleased with Adam and Kimball.

**Hockey-girl90**: You flatter me!

**Sinbin05**: Well ditto because you turn my yucky days into good ones by reviewing!

Cc: Glad you're liking it so far!


	4. Not Just a Pizza

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Archie Kellerman felt terrible. He was sitting at the kitchen table when Devin drug himself in, half-awake, on the first day of what was to be his sophomore year of high school. He had promised his son earlier in the summer that they would have some time together, but the company was tightening its belt even more, people were being laid off, and his schedule had not changed. He was still working long afternoons and nights and hardly ever saw the only person in the world he really cared about. 

Watching with a small smile as Devin sat down at the table, dropping his head onto the tile and groaning, Archie shoved his glass of orange juice in that direction.

"Thirsty?"

"Mmph." It was completely unintelligible and probably the comprised at least fifty percent of the boy's current vocabulary. But he did raise his head slightly, grabbing the glass with both hands and gulping the juice down. He didn't turn away the honey toast his dad had made either.

He was just getting up and grabbing his gym bag, stick, and book bag when Mr. Kellerman leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs. "Devin, look. I'm trying to work it out so I can be here more."

His son shrugged. "Dad, it's cool. I mean, you gotta work, right?" There was absolutely no resentment in his voice, but it didn't make the grown man staring at him feel any better.

"Yeah, I've gotta work. But this is no way for us to live. A kid and his father are supposed to see each other." He shook his head, realizing that it was way too heavy of a moment for 7am on a Monday. "You ready for your first day back?"

Devin nodded, heading towards the door. "Yeah. I guess. You know, more of the same. Jocks sitting with jocks, cheerleaders hovering around the football jerks, teachers piling on the homework, hockey practice in the afternoon. That part will be good." He grinned now, indicating his brand new stick. "This is awesome, by the way. You didn't have to do that."

"Sure I did."

Halfway through the door, Devin hefted what he lovingly referred to as 'all his crap,' and smiled back at his dad. "Thanks, Dad." And then he was gone, leaving Archie to stare after him, wondering when exactly his son had suddenly begun looking just like the male version of his dead mother.

* * *

"I'm failing to see the excitement in this." Charlie pulled his chair up at the patio table and looked warily at Beau who was literally leering at the box that sat between them. "It's just a pizza." 

Her eyes shot up to meet his and she pointed a finger in his direction, her other hand poised above the food. "It is **not** just a pizza, Charles Conway, and I consider it blasphemy for you to say so." She picked up a small square of super thin crust pepperoni and gazed at it reverently. "This is a Wildflower pizza. Found only in North Carolina. I have been craving it for weeks now, and my father surprised me by having this one shipped here."

"What **haven't** you been craving for weeks now?" Charlie said it under his breath, but he had made sure she could hear him. Her cravings were a running joke in the house as she entered her fifth month of pregnancy.

She stopped with the food almost in her mouth and pointed at him again. "Watch it." That said, she took a huge bite, closed her eyes and moaned in appreciation. There was something strangely sensual about it.

Charlie raised a brow. "Well I guess I better give this pizza a try." He took a bite and had to admit it was one of the better pizzas he had ever had. He didn't know if it was going to incite him to moaning, but he wasn't the pregnant one. _Thank, God._

They ate in silence for fifteen minutes, mostly because Beau was too involved in the pizza to even acknowledge that Charlie was in attendance at the dinner. Finally, more full than she had thought was possible, she leaned back in her chair. "Well, that just turned the worst day ever much better."

Charlie leaned back himself, frowning. He grimaced a little, still sore from the first week of pre-season practices. "Why was it the worst day ever?"

Beau flung her hands into the air. "What is it about being pregnant that makes it okay for people to touch you and tell you how fat you are?"

Charlie looked at her matter-of-factly. "Who was touching you? People you know, I assume."

She shook her head vigorously and he laughed at the way her hair whipped back and forth across her face. "**No**! Complete strangers!"

She saw him tense and nodded in agreement. "No kidding, Charlie. I was at Office Depot today and the sales clerk walked right up and said 'look at you! You were in here last month and weren't nearly this big. You're a house!' and then she put her hand right smack in the middle of my belly."

Charlie shook his head. "Did she need an ice pack for the black eye that I imagine you gave her?"

Shoving out of the low sitting chair, Beau laid a protective hand over herself and picked up her drink. "I was civil, thank you very much. I just kind of backed away slowly and avoided the urge to slather myself with anti-bacterial goop."

The other running joke was that since becoming pregnant, Beau had also developed a mild case of germaphobia. She washed her hands constantly and Charlie was really considering buying stock in Clorox disinfectant wipes.

Getting up himself, Charlie grabbed the pizza box and the dirty plates. Before heading back into the kitchen he walked over to where Beau stood by the pool and kissed her forehead gently. "We've got the baby x-ray thingy in the morning, right?"

She laughed. "Well, if you mean the ultrasound, yes. I'm glad you're able to come."

"Wouldn't miss it." With that he bent down and kissed her stomach and then walked towards the lights of the house. He stopped at the door and indicated the phone that was sitting just inside the screened porch. "You should call Guy. He sounded…not himself…when he called earlier."

* * *

"You have **got** to be kidding me." Guy was sitting cross-legged on his bed with Attila chasing Ralph, his cat, around him in circles. He was watching, face falling, as Connie shoveled things back into her suitcase. 

She stopped, looking up at him with annoyance. "Guy, it's not like I can help it." She stooped to pick a bra up off the floor. "The player's union is calling a meeting before training camp starts. It's not the kind of thing that you can miss really, you know."

He nodded, trying to understand, absently separating the animals when their tussle found its way into his lap. "It's not that I don't understand, Con. The point is, though, that if you had come earlier like we had planned you would have been her two** weeks** when you got the call to go back instead of two **days**." He had been feeling this way all weekend, but had been loath to say it out loud. Talking to Beau about it was one thing. Saying it out loud to Connie made it true. It made it something to fight about. "The point is that the whole time you've been here," he gestured around his master bedroom - the master bedroom that he had worked straight through the night three weeks ago to finish in time for Connie visiting. "You haven't really been here."

She looked at him for a long moment, her chocolate eyes registering hurt and then, Guy realized, the fiery anger that had originally drawn him to her as a boy. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

He thought hard, wanting to choose his words carefully. "It just seems like there have been a lot of reasons over the past six months to put off seeing each other."

She tossed the bra she was still holding down into her suitcase with malice. "I'm sorry if my career is important to me, Guy! What does it say about this relationship if you are going to hold my success over my head like that?" She was almost screaming and Guy just stared at her in shock. _Where on earth did that come from_, he thought, his brain racing desperately for an answer.

"You know that's not what this is about, Connie. There's something else going on here and you're picking a fight to avoid discussing it."

She scoffed, turning around to face the window, her long dark hair fanning out behind her. "**You** started the conversation." She still sounded mad, but the more acute anger had seeped out of her voice.

Guy stood up, crossing the room to stand behind her. He hesitated before wrapping his arms around her waist and dropping his chin onto her shoulder. "I'm worried about us, Cons." When she didn't deny a problem and only dropped her head he released her, stepping back a bit. "Is this still what you want?" He raised his arms to indicate his room – his home – and he saw that she was looking at him in the reflection of the dark window. "Am **I** still what you want?"

Unable to look at him directly, she met his gaze in the window. There was a hitch in her voice, but he heard her just fine. "I don't know anymore."

Their doctor's appointment was scheduled for 10am, which would give Charlie just enough time to do that, drop Beau at home, and then make it to practice.

He came trotting down the stairs at nine and found Beau sitting at the kitchen bar, her eyes on a second edit of her seventh book and bud ear phones dangling from her head. She was humming softly and Charlie stood in the doorway undetected to watch her for a moment. She was beautiful and at some point she had raised her head to stare back at him.

Smiling sweetly she pulled out the ear buds and dropped her pen. "Hey there." He walked over to kiss her.

"Hey yourself." He bent down to kiss her belly and she leaned back to oblige him. He spoke loudly just above her bellybutton. It was hard to do considering the huge mega-sound transfer headphones she had stretched across the expanse that was her stomach. "Hey in there, kid. I see your mother is already ruining your hearing this morning." When he stood back up she was adjusting the volume on the IPod self-consciously. He stilled her hand, winking. "I was just kidding. What do you have it listening to today?"

She bit her lip. "Fall Out Boy. Their new album."

Charlie shook his head. "Isn't it a little early for soft-core?"

As he fixed himself a cup of coffee (plenty of sugar – we **are** talking about Charlie Conway, after all), she shook her head. "It's never too early for music appreciation, Charlie."

He turned around, hopping up to sit on the brightly colored tile counter. "I meant isn't it a little early in the morning. Not too early in life." He waved it off. "I was kidding anyway. Bombard baby with whatever you feel necessary. Just make sure you throw some Pantera in there at some point."

She rolled her eyes. "I will not." When he opened his mouth to protest she held up a hand. "Compromise: Aerosmith **and** Metallica **and** Nirvana."

He narrowed his eyes. "But you like Nirvana too. How is that a compromise for me?" Before she could launch into a diatribe at the end of which he would lose the debate anyway, he nodded. "Fair enough."

* * *

Beau was laying back on the table, her hand in Charlie's, and her mind reeling as she came to the realization that when she lay on her back she could no longer see her feet over her stomach. _I really am a house._ The doctor had even commented when taking her measurements that she was quite large for how far along she was. She had glared up at Charlie and had made a comment about his height genes. 

She shivered a little when the doctor squeezed the conductive jelly on her skin and then relaxed when the ultrasound wand began sliding over her body. Both she and Charlie were focused on the machine's monitor and she let out a little gasp when she heard the steady thump thump of their baby's heart. Charlie grinned down at her.

"That's crazy."

She nodded in agreement. Dr. Tumey smiled at them before pointing. "Now there's the head, and there is his or her little hand and…" She trailed off, cocking her head to the side. The strange look had Beau rising up on her elbows.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Charlie sensed the little bit of panic in her voice and ran a hand soothingly over her hair.

The doctor cocked her head a bit further, her voice soft. "Nothings wrong I just thought I heard…" She grinned and moved the want farther up Beau's body. "There!" She laughed. "I **knew** I heard that."

Beau still didn't understand. "Heard what?"

Dr. Tumey flushed and turned to them. "I heard a second heartbeat."

Charlie was utterly confused, as usual. "I don't understand."

She pointed to the monitor. "This is very rare to discover so late in a pregnancy and I can only think of one other time in my career that this has happened."

Impatient, Beau spoke. "Spit it out, Carol." Both Charlie and the doctor looked at her in surprise. "Sorry."

But the woman only laughed again. "I'm hearing **two** heartbeats. It seems **someone** has been hiding behind his or her brother or sister."

**

* * *

AdoptedThug**: I know. I like writing angsty Guy, though. Glad you liked the fish.

**Joank**: Nope, no Sports Night for me. But now I'll have to check it out. I'm currently trying to write a series that would appeal to like the Baby Sitter's Club audience. We'll see what happens. I'm long winded for sure, though!

**antiIrony**: Thanks for the compliments. I needed them. They helped a lot with this chapter.

**Hockey-girl90**: I don't know! Guess you'll have to wait and see. And thanks!

**Duckfluff**: There you go – twins!

**Cc**: Don't freak over Connie and Guy yet. I haven't decided the outcome of this. I'm letting it come as it does, so maybe they'll stay together?


	5. Lucky Stars

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Hockey wasn't a huge sport at Devin's school, but people came out to the games. Probably one of the more popular ones was the pre-season Blue and Gold scrimmage when they split the team in two and took each other on in a brutal head to head match where they all seemed to have something to prove. Not that there was a tone of drama. All of the guys on the team got along well, but they were all very athletic and, let's face it, who doesn't want to be known as the star hockey player? 

For Devin, being put on Varsity as a sophomore had meant a great deal. More than it would have to most, probably. To him it was justification for all of the hard work that he had put into the sport, but more importantly, it was payoff for everything that Guy and Beau and Charlie had done for him.

As the game ended, he pulled off his helmet, shaking his head to get the sweaty curls out of his eyes.

"Devin!" He turned around and there was a girl standing by the boards waving at him. _Jacinda Hammond. Hmmm. Well this is interesting._

Shooting back a practiced and semi-interested smile, Devin made his way across the ice and slide to a slow stop just in front of her. He nodded his head. "What's up?"

She was a junior and absolutely beautiful. But not in the way most of the girls at their school were beautiful. Not fake. She was tall and slim and had this mane of perfectly straight jet black hair. The great thing about her, Devin thought, was that she barely wore any make up at all and managed to look stunning in spite of that, or maybe even because of it. She was funny and smart and wore cool square black glasses and wrote for the school paper. And she intimidated the hell out of Devin.

"I just wanted to say great game and congratulations on making varsity." She said it confidently, but she held the strap of her messenger bag in both hands where is crossed her chest and he saw a slight blush creep into her cheeks, causing exactly the same reaction in Devin. Suddenly all of the clever things to say he had stored in his brain turned to mush and he stared at her, able only to revert to his teenage boy musings.

"Uh, thanks." He searched his brain for something to say. _Anything!_ "Oh, I uh, read that review you wrote of the Yellowcard concert last week. It was really good. The article I mean, not the concert." He rolled his eyes at himself. "The concert was good too, I guess. I mean, I don't know. I wasn't there." _Now who's blushing_, he though, cursing himself.

But Jacinda hadn't seemed to notice. She was just smiling back at him. "Thanks. It was a good concert. I'm glad you read the article."

Becoming comfortable, Devin leaned against the boards. "I read a lot. So is that what you want to do? Be a writer?"

Jacinda smiled again, looking up at the rink ceiling. "Maybe. I don't really know a lot yet about what it takes, you know?"

_This is gong to make me look so smooth. Thank you, Beau._ Trying to sound non-committal Devin nodded. "Yeah." He creased his brow as if thinking. "Hey, you know I have a friend who is a professional author. If you wanted to, like, bounce some ideas off of her or pick her brain I'm sure she'd be happy to."

Her eyes widened a little. "Yeah?"

He nodded again, still playing it cool. "Yeah." He looked around to where one of his buddies from J-V was motioning to him. "Hey, after games a few of my friends and I always go play some pool and get some food." _I'm going to crash and burn, here._ "You wouldn't want to come, would you?"

"I'd love to!" She looked around at her own friends. "Can I meet you out front when you're ready? I need to go tell my friends that I don't need a ride home."

Devin smiled. "Yeah. See you in a few." He skated backwards, watching her head up the steps and then nearly tripped when he scanned the other people leaving and saw his dad by the home team box waving at him and grinning like an idiot. He smiled back, skating over.

Archie clapped his son hard on the shoulder pads. "Hey, great game, kid! It always amazes me how good you're getting. Where does all that talent come from?"

Devin quirked his head. "Dunno. Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were working this afternoon."

The older man winked. "I was, but I didn't want to miss your big varsity debut. I called in and said that the car wouldn't start. You should have heard it. It was a very good performance."

Devin laughed, his head thrown back. "That's classic. Thanks."

Archie looked down at his watch and sighed. "I guess I better head in now though. I'll probably stay a little late to make up for some of the missed time. I'll see you when you get home from practice tomorrow, though, okay?"

"Yeah. Sounds good. Have a good night." He started to skate away, adding as an afterthought, "It was really cool of you to be here, Dad." He turned to skate away, smiling to himself, but stopped when his father hollered his name. At first he couldn't hear what he was saying and held a hand to his ear, urging him to speak louder.

"That girl is really cute!"

"Oh, Lord." Laughing now he took of towards the locker room, shaking his head. "Parents."

* * *

"Did you get my present?" Charlie hovered in the doorway, surprised to find Beau in the nursery by the big window and staring out. 

She turned around, hands clasped and laying atop her generous tummy. She nodded across the room where there was an identical crib to the one that she and Rachel had purchased. Even the linens were exactly the same. She wasn't sure when he had had the time or the knowledge to get just the right thing, but that was Charlie for you. "I did. It was delivered this afternoon." She smiled at him, her voice a little edgy. "Thank you."

Charlie frowned and crossed his legs at the ankles, leaning against the door jamb. "Hey, are you okay? You haven't seemed your usual self the past two days." She took a few steps closer and for the first time he noticed the wet sheen around her eyes. He walked forward and caught her face in his hands. She tried to turn away, but he held her there, bending down a little to look her directly in the eye. His voice was soft. "Hey, Conway, c'mon. What is it?" Before she spoke he had a moment to register that she looked terrified.

Finally she dropped her hands helplessly by her side. "What if I can't do this?" She looked around the room in shame and then dropped her head against his chest, which was a considerable fete as she had to stand back so far because of her stomach.

"What if you can't do what?" Charlie ran his fingers through her hands and gently squeezed the back of her neck.

She kept her head down, her voice muffled. "Two babies at one time!" She looked up at him now. "One was going to be scary enough but now what am I going to do when you're out of town for games?"

Sliding his hands down her arms and ultimately grasping her hands Charlie smiled at her. "Well, **a** – you're going to be an amazing mother. I've seen how you are with Devin and with the kids the Guy coaches."

She gave him a wry look. "You can't accidentally drop a fifteen year old on its head, Charlie."

He nodded. "That's true. But, **b** – it will be harder when I'm out of town, but only for a while, until we get used to having two new people in the house."

That made Beau laugh. He was constantly referring to them as the "new people in the house" as if they were relatives coming for a visit or someone they were renting their room out to. She had a feeling he was going to be in for an emotional overload when he had two little sets of eyes staring up at him.

He felt immensely better seeing her smile. "**C**," he bent over, kissing her forehead and then her belly. "You happen to have a fabulous inside source. Why don't you call that mother of yours and see if she wants to come out and stay for the first couple of weeks. You know she'd love it."

Beau smiled, relishing the idea of her mom being with her as she took her first tentative steps into motherhood, but she didn't want to tell Charlie that she still felt un-prepared and completely inadequate for taking care of two helpless little babies. When he tugged at her hand, trying unsuccessfully to pull her towards the nursery door she frowned at him. "What? Where are we going?"

"Dinner. Remember? We're supposed to meet Kelios and his wife. Besides, you're eating for three, so we can't have you going hungry." He touched her stomach, a little surprised to find that her bellybutton had suddenly become an outie.

Beau saw him staring down in wonder at where his hand covered her shirt and groaned. "It was like that when I got up this morning. I really am getting huge. It's ridiculous." She yanked at the waistband of her uncomfortable maternity pants. "Nothing fits right." Reaching up, she ran her fingers through her hair. "My whole body chemistry is changing. My hair is like twice as curly as normal and I can't do anything with it. I constantly look like I just rolled out of bed." She glared down at her stomach. "Emphasis on the word **rolled**." She crossed her arms over her chest and Charlie began to hear the morose tone of her voice. "Every time I go out people keep telling me how tired I look and how big my butt is getting and saying things like 'how do you do it carrying around all that weight.'" She looked at him in exhaustion. "Someone the other day actually used the word 'whale' in reference to my body. I think they may have also used the word 'beached.'"

Charlie was looking at her in udder confusion trying to think the right thing to say was and if he was even meant to speak yet. She dropped into the rocking chair and let her head fall into hands. "I just feel so terrible about myself right now."

* * *

"Planning a surprise party when you're wife practically refuses to leave the house has got to be one of the most asinine things that you've ever tried to do, Charlie." Aggie Mayland leaned across the dining room table where she had just set another gift and kissed Charlie squarely on the lips. "And one of the sweetest." Leaning back she surveyed the room as her son-in-law did the same. "It's a damn miracle we finally got the girl to go out with her father." 

Nodding, Charlie thought about Brian telling his daughter that he absolutely needed her help to pick out a new Red Wings hat. "I can't do it alone," he had said. "You know my fashion sense." Beau had rolled her eyes and Brian had come back with, "Besides, is it too much to ask that I get a little alone time with my baby girl before she starts having babies?"

And that had been all she wrote. Beau had teared up, emotional as usual for the past few weeks, and nodded enthusiastically before grabbing her car keys. Luckily, they had made it out the door before everyone showed up. Charlie looked at Aggie, his smile fading.

"I've just been really worried about her lately. She's not herself, you know? I don't know what to do to make her feel better."

Beau's mother came around the table and wrapped her arm around Charlie's waist, guiding him towards the back porch where everyone was congregating. "There isn't anything you can do, sweetie. Just be you. Be supportive and helpful and try not to get too annoyed when her emotions are all over the place. She'll come around. She's got some crazy things happening to her body right now and Beau's never been one who delt well with losing control. She'll come around."

Charlie put his arm on her shoulder, looking down. "You think?"

She nudged him gently, smiling. "I **know**."

* * *

"Would you sit down?" Rachel put her hands on Beau's shoulders and shoved her back into the patio chair she was sitting in. "I'll do that!" She grabbed Beau's plate and cup and headed towards the house. 

"Hey!" Beau called after her but knew she was being ignored. "I'm not dying, I'm just fat, okay?"

"I take offense to that." Goldberg was sitting next to the pool, his legs dangling in.

Averman gave him a light shove and Beau rolled her eyes. "Shut it, Goldie."

When Rachel came back with Fulton, Adam, Kimball, and Guy in tow, Beau gasped at the mound of presents they were carrying between them. "Oh my gosh! You guys didn't have to bring anything! Just you being here is enough." But she couldn't help but get excited about all of the packages sitting before her.

She waited to start opening as everyone gathered around and in her silence Charlie leaned over her shoulder, his mouth close to her ear. "So this party is a good thing, right?"

Beau grinned, looking around at everyone she loved in the world – Goldberg and Averman were arguing over a chair. Kimball was sitting on Adam's lap and making moony eyes at him. Rachel and Fulton were poking at each other and laughing. Guy was sitting in the chair next to her looking, well looking sad actually, but then he smiled that smile at her and she felt her heart warm. Devin and his father had not been able to attend, but had sent a card and present, expressly asking to be called when the babies were born. And her parents – seeing them standing together, hand in hand and in love as ever, brought tears of happiness to her eyes. Beau raised her arms up over her head to wrap them around the back of Charlie's neck and pulled him closer. She turned her head sideways and planted a warm kiss on his cheek. "This party is exactly what I needed.

* * *

"These babies are going to be so lucky to have so much love and to have all of you in their lives." Beau was looking around at everything spread out on the table, loving the individualness of each and every gift. "You guys are amazing." 

Goldberg and Averman had gone in together on two floor playsets. For each baby there was a wool blanket in the shape of an animal. One a lion and one a lamb. Each had a matching rattle and stuffed animal and each had been embroidered with "Baby Conway."

Jess had very proudly presented two tiny little rompers, as red as red could be, boasting the Pennington State mascot on the front. Each came with a tiny little pair of Wolfpack socks and a Wolfpack blanket. ("Because we all know that with both of y'all's school spirit there is no chance that these kids are going anywhere else for college.")

Rachel and Fulton had been so proud of their gifts. They had also bought romper outfits, but these were made of the material of hockey jerseys and there were four in total. Two were custom made and looked like teeny tiny District Five Ducks jerseys. The other two were almost identical to Charlie's Red Wings jersey, right down to the number 96, the word Conway on the back, and the teeny tiny 'C' on the front. Rachel had also given Beau a gift certificate for the two of them the next day to have a full spa retreat.

Adam and Kimball had brought a small stockpile of baby clothes. There was everything you could possibly want for the first two or three months of your baby's life and it was all in beautiful greens and yellows and oranges. The biggest part of their gift though, was the two seated stroller. Aggie Mayland had immediately burst into tears upon seeing it, as it reminded her of the one she had pushed Beau and Parker in.

From her parents Beau and Charlie received both something practical and sentimental. For the former, they were thrilled to have two brand new car seats. The best part, though, had been the family tree. It was a mahogany frame with a hand painted beautiful tree signed at the bottom by a local North Carolina artist. At the top were Charlie and Beau's names and there were spaces all the way down for them to track their lives as their family began to grow throughout the years.

Devin and his father, in their card, had explained that their gift was chosen because of the hockey talent the Conway children were sure to have. For each baby there was a onesie – the cute ones with snaps on the butt. On the front it had a simple saying. "Step One: Crawl. Step Two: Walk. Step Three:" After step three there was a huge picture of a hockey skate dominating the outfit. Each was also attached to a huge stuffed hockey stick.

But Beau's favorite present had come from Guy. He was her dearest friend and the one she often thought most understood her. When it came time for his present he had held out not a festive bag or box but two small plants. The first was a beautiful sapling dogwood tree. Native to the south but which could grow in many climates. The second was young peony bush. It was Beau's favorite flower. Both were currently held in small silver baby cups inscribed with quotes. One read: "Meditate. Live purely. Like the moon, come out from behind the clouds! Shine. – Buddha" and the other, "There is no such thing in anyone's life as an unimportant day. – Alexander Woollcott." Guy quietly explained that he had thought they could plant them, one for each baby, and watch as they grew like the children would.

Thinking all was done, Beau thanked everyone profusely. As she was talking, Charlie stepped to her side, a small box in his hand. He addressed their friends.

"I know the past few weeks have been tough for Beau. She hasn't felt well, she's tired, and the worst part is that everyone keeps telling her how terrible she looks." He ran a hand through his hair. "But I think she looks beautiful and I wanted to give her something to help her remember the birth of our first children."

Averman, always one to open his mouth at the wrong time, laughed. "**First** children? We going to have a whole Conway brood?"

Charlie shot him a look but then smiled, gesturing towards the house. "It's a big place, man. Who knows?"

Beau said nothing, unable to trust her body to hold back the tears, and gently opened the box. Inside laid a platinum cable chain with a modest pendant hanging from the front. She lifted it carefully, sucking in her breath as she laid eyes on the three stars, two small polished ones and a large sandblasted one in the center. She turned her eyes up to meet Charlie's and he bent down beside her, his eyes earnest, and his voice low.

"This is to remind you that you and these babies are my three lucky stars. I can't imagine my life without you in it and I have a feeling that very soon there are going to be two more people I can say that about. You make me so happy. I want **you** to be happy." He laughed when she kissed him roughly on the mouth, nearly knocking him over.

During the touching moment, Guy had quietly gotten up from the table and had walked to the back of the huge yard, sitting on a bench and watching his friends from afar. After a long embrace Charlie subtly nudged his elbow in that direction. "You should go talk to him."

**

* * *

AdooptedThug**: Thanks! Yeah, like me Beau is a pizza kind of girl.

**Aradia-rising**: I'm glad you like Adam and Kimball so much. They are starting to grow on me as well. The belly thing freaks me out. When I'm pregnant there will be NO touching.

**antiIrony**: Glad you like the twist. I liked your "not a pun" by the way.

**Paula**: I know! How could you NOT go visit Guy. Connie is crazy!

**Johnny**: I'm holding you to that deal. It is only fair!

**Duckfluff**: I don't know about Casey. I'm toying with a couple of ideas, but I've got enough other plans I don't know if we need that angst. Thanks for the compliment, by the way. That particular one meant a lot.

**Hockeygirl90**: Guy needs a hug!


	6. Distractions

Top of Form

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Guy watched as Beau walked towards him. He was struck by how different she looked from the Beau he had met back when he had been twenty. _Man_, he thought. _Almost eight years ago_. 

She was wearing a pale green, brown, and white strapless shirt that flowed over her growing belly and there was a cute thick green ribbon circling it above the huge bump. In dark brown capri pants and bare feet he couldn't help but think she was the cutest pregnant woman he had ever seen.

She walked slowly, both hands braced on her back. She had never been a really small built girl, but he still couldn't imagine how she was carrying all of that weight.

Her hair was pulled back in a massive brown pony-tail and it was swinging back and forth. She walked right up to him and stood with her shins against his knees. Breathing heavily she lifted her sunglasses off of her nose and set them on top of her head, staring down at him.

"I just waddled my way over here to talk to you. Shove over, Germaine."

Laughing, he obliged, moving to the side of the bench and holding out a hand as she slowly dropped herself down, huffing out a breath. When she was finally settled she turned in his direction, laying a hand on his knee.

"So what's up with you, Guy?" He looked at her as if he had no idea what she was talking about. "Oh please. If I have to keep looking at your sad face I'm going to pop these babies out **now** from the stress." She pinched his kneecap. "Spill it."

Letting his own sunglasses hide his eyes he looked towards the garden. "Same thing it's been for weeks now. **Connie**." He said her name with such finality that Beau couldn't help but feel sick inside. She thought back to the day in her bedroom, packing, when Guy had told her that he knew Connie was the one.

She dropped her voice and looked up at the sky. "Do you still love her?"

Guy finally looked at her. "I feel like I'm broken inside. I became the man that I am today because of my life with Connie. Without that, I don't even know who I am." He dropped his head. "Of **course** I still love her. I don't know how not to."

Beau nodded and thought about it for a minute. "I know you're devastated, Guy. But do you think it's possible that you're also very scared of being alone? You've never been with anyone but Connie."

He shook his head, having already thought about that a million times himself. "It's not that. You know that feeling when you realized that even though you and Charlie had been apart for two years you still **had** to be with him? The feeling that told you he was the one?"

She smiled. Yes, she remembered. She still felt it almost everyday.

Guy took her smile for an answer. "That's how it is with Connie. The sad part is there is nothing I can do to fix it - just wait. But waiting makes it feel like she forgets me more each day. Who knows if she even thinks about me anymore?"

Beau thought about the phone conversation that Charlie had had with Connie the previous weekend. They had run into each other, playing in the same town, and seeing her sunken eyes and her exhausted expression, he had felt compelled to call her a week later.

Connie had said that she felt like she needed her room to fly. And she felt that not only had she been unwilling to give up her hockey for Guy, but that Guy was unwilling to give up his teaching for her. Why none of this had been said between the two of them, Beau didn't know, but she had promised Charlie that she would not be caught in the middle. He didn't think it was their place to pass comments between the former couple and she half-heartedly agreed. But Connie was missing Guy, that was for sure. She patted his leg.

"I can say with almost certainty that she still thinks about you."

He smiled at her. "Yeah?"

Before she could answer Beau's eyes widened and she laughed out loud, her face lighting up. She grabbed Guy's hand with both of hers and shoved his palm against the side of her stomach closest to him. "Feel this!"

Guy jerked his hand back, his voice a little hysterical. "Charlie said no touching!" Charlie had in fact threatened the life of anyone who touched his wife's very pregnant stomach. He had been determined that nothing would ruin her special day.

Beau rolled her eyes. "The no touching is for crazy check-out ladies at the grocery store, not my **best-friend**." She motioned for him to hurry. "Really, feel this." She pointed at the spot where she had put his hand before and Guy tentatively laid his hand there, looking across the yard to make sure that Charlie was not running at him with some sort of weapon.

"Oh wow." Beneath his palm he felt a tiny little bump. Beau laid her hand over his, smiling. She applied a great deal of pressure and he was actually able to make out the shape of a miniscule little foot. He looked up at his friend, thinking her to be a goddess for creating such an amazing thing.

She was grinning, her eyes shining. "That's not even the best part." She grabbed his other hand and pulled him to reach across her growing stomach. When she placed his hand flat against the opposite side from the already kicking foot, he immediately felt the pressure of another. Beau smiled brilliantly at him. "They're both kicking at the same time. It's the first time they've done that."

Guy didn't have words. Seeing Beau so happy and feeling the miracle of life right there under his fingertips had him speechless. But he did know that Charlie should feel it. He looked across the lawn and laughed a little when he saw Charlie standing spread-eagle, hands on his hips and glaring in his direction. Pulling his hand away, he motioned for Charlie to join them. "Conway! Get over here."

Beau laughed out loud as Charlie came running over, looking frantic.

"What is it?" He looked from Beau to Guy and back again, confused as to why they were both grinning like maniacs. "Are you okay?"

Guy laughed and scooted backwards, making room for Charlie. "You're kids are already practicing their enforcer skills!"

Beau reached up and grabbed both of his hands, yanking him down to her level. He opened his mouth to speak as she planted his palms on either side of her stomach. "Beau, I really don't think…" And then he felt it. Two tiny little feet kicking in two tiny little directions. It knocked the breath clean out of him. "Wow."

* * *

"Moreau! Hustle!" Connie's coach was screaming from the place where he was perched on a stool. She still thought it was weird that he lugged the thing out on the ice and stuck it in the corner for every practice, _but to each his own, right?_ She tried to hustle, digging in with her blades and chasing down the puck. Just across the blue line she somehow managed to trip over her own feet and went sliding into the boards sideways. 

The wind knocked out of her, Connie lay on her back, briefly registering that the move was very Luis Mendoza and smiled despite the bells ringing in her head. She had knocked the wind out of her lungs.

Finally able to breath, Connie rose to first her hands and knees and then wobbled up to stand on her skates. The action of the practice scrimmage had stopped around her and everyone was staring. _Great._

She slowly looked towards her coach, knowing where this was all going to end up. He had his arms crossed across his chest and his head was tilted back, staring at the ceiling. His leg was bouncing rapidly and he was talking to himself. _Cursing, probably_, Connie thought. His two assistants were standing behind him, both looking at her in confusion.

Finally Coach Dierickx dropped his head and leveled his gaze on her. He reached out a hand and crooked his finger, indicating that she should approach him. Sighing heavily, Connie made her way across the ice, pulling her helmet off as she went. Her hair was matted to her forehead and she was breathing heavily. The worst part was that she knew exactly what he was going to say and she had absolutely no answer for him.

"Moreau." He said her name like an accusation and it had her stomach clenching. Looking over his shoulders he mumbled something to Coaches Scarpino and Collier and they took off, rounding up the team for a set of drills. Turning his attention back to what had been his star player, he crossed his arms again. "Tell me what is going on with you."

She started speaking immediately, her mouth running several yards ahead of her brain, much like it had always done. "Well, I've had this twinge in my throat for a few days and I think I might have been running a fever. As for the tripping just now, I'm not sure what happened there, but I can have my skates checked. Maybe the blade…"

He was staring at her, one eyebrow raised, his lips pursed. Just staring at her. Connie drew silent and sighed. He looked at her sternly.

"Connie, you are one of my best players. For the past two weeks you have sucked with a capital S. Sorry to be so blunt but we both know it is the truth. You are distracted and pre-occupied." He looked at her in the eyes, his voice stern. "I'll ask you again. Tell me what is going on with you."

Connie tapped her stick on the ice before her and finally let it rest, her hands clasped across the top. This man had given her her big chance straight out of Eden Hall. He deserved an answer. Looking past him at her reflection in the glass she bit her lip before beginning. "I don't know, Coach. I thought I had everything under control. I decided to eliminate some of my distractions. Make hockey my only priority." She chanced a glance in his direction and he was looking at her skeptically.

"You sure don't play like someone who is without disruption."

She nodded. "I know."

Thinking about it for a long moment, Coach Dierickx looked at his watch and then across the ice at the other players as they filed off of the rink. "Connie, human beings weren't set up to have only one passion in their lives. You are good at hockey." He nodded at her. "Exceptional, actually, but that certainly doesn't mean that you can't also be a good friend or a good wife or a good mother. Hell, it doesn't even mean that you won't be an exceptional coach or something completely different. I would bet good money that you have other talents. I suggest you think about what it is that is distracting you so much and get it the hell back." He got up and began to head towards his office, the damn stool under his arm. "That is, of course, if you want to remain my starting center."

_

* * *

Hey kiddo,_

_I could ask you this in person, but we both know how brainless I've been lately with this schedule and I didn't want to forget. Somebody who shall remain nameless (ahem, Devin!) has a sixteenth birthday coming up in a few days. Be thinking about what you want to do, huh?_

_See you tomorrow. Love,_

_Dad_

Devin smiled and dropped the note in the trash. His dad was completely scatter-brained of late, that was for sure, but it was very cool that he had remembered his upcoming birthday and wanted to do something that day.

As he lugged everything to his room, though, his thoughts were already back on Jacinda and the way that she had laughed at his extremely lame jokes over pizza. She was absolutely beyond cool. _Hey__maybe I could take a few people to an Anaheim game for my birthday_. He yanked off his shirt and bent to search the floor for one that smelled just a little less. _I wonder if Jacinda would come._

* * *

Phone calls that jolt you awake in the middle of the night are very very rarely concerning anything good. That was the thought that had Beau's heart pounding when the phone across their bedroom started shrilling at three in the morning a few days after her baby shower. 

She was on her side, uncomfortable as she usually was at night, and she was nudging Charlie. He could sleep through the ending of the world and she briefly thought that he was going to sleep much better than she once there were two crying babies just down the hall. When he didn't wake immediately she put her freezing cold feet on the back of his bare thigh, just below his boxers.

His sat up in a hurry and jerked around to glare at her. "Jesus, woman! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" But already his face was softening, his eyes bleary and his curly hair disheveled.

The phone had since stopped ringing and Beau rolled her eyes. "Cold feet on your legs are not going to give you a heart attack." She lifted her head a little. "The phone was ringing and I couldn't drag my massive weight off of the bed fast enough."

Charlie patted her pillow, indicating that she should lie back down, and then looked at the clock, still squinting across the room. "The phone was ringing at three-o-five am? That's weird. Wrong number maybe?" Heart finally slowing down, Charlie eased his head back onto the pillow and turned on his side to face Beau in the dark. "You feeling okay? You seem awful wide awake."

She grimaced and reached out a hand to smooth the wrinkles in his brow. "I'm okay. I think they've started practicing full body checks in there at night though. I swear they are doing it just to see how long they can keep me awake."

"Are own little bash brothers…or sisters." He let out a low chuckle and rubbed a protective hand over his wife's belly. Charlie jumped when the phone began ringing again. He rolled his eyes, flipped over, and swung his legs out to land squarely on the hardwood floor. "Awful persistent for a wrong number."

Beau felt the unease rising again in her stomach, and it wasn't two babies kicking causing it this time. Instinctively she knew that something was wrong and struggled to sit up just as Charlie was picking the phone up off of its cradle. After all, phone calls that jolt you awake in the middle of the night are very very rarely concerning anything good.

**

* * *

Roxxy**: thanks for reviewing. I'll tell Connie to watch out!

**antiIrony**: As usual you flatter me and make me feel so good about myself. And then I feel bad about myself for being such a glutton for flattery! Hahah. Thanks for the imagery compliment. I can't write it if I can't see it myself!

**Duckys**: Twins indeed. I'm taking name suggestions!

**Casnyl21**: Thanks!

**AdoptedThug**: Lots of presents! Yay! Thanks as usual.

**Aradia-Rising**: I like writing Devin a bit older. I can totally picture him. I'm not sure yet if Jacinda is girlfriend material, but we'll see.

**Hockey-girl90**: yay! You liked it!

**Duckfluff**: I'm glad you like everything. Name suggestions are more than welcome for the babies, because I definitely don't have them yet. Sigh. As for Charlie, I think that warrants a double sigh. He is perfect. I just love him! Haha

**Johnny**: Thanks for being such a faithful reader and reviewer!


	7. The Solution

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"Are you absolutely one hundred percent sure that you should be flying? You're seven months pregnant, Beau." Charlie was pacing the bedroom at eight in the morning watching his wife as she packed a small suitcase. 

Face pale, she stopped what she was doing and stared at him. "I called the doctor. He said it's not a great idea to take such a long flight, but that it could be done." She was in functioning mode and felt her nerves hovering on the edge. She indicated the shirt sitting closest to him and held out her hand for it. When Charlie only looked at her she sighed, her voice tense. "Charlie, Devin is sitting at some person's house **alone** right now. We can stand here and argue about it, or you can give me the damn clothes. What do you want me to do?"

He thought about it for a minute and then shook his head, handing her the shirt and some pants that were also close by. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you too. I wish I could come with you. I **can** miss the game, you know."

She shook her head, feeling a hitch in her voice. "We don't have time to be worried about us right now. Besides, Devin would be mortified if you missed a game on his account." Charlie opened his mouth to protest, but Beau shot him a look. "He would be mortified."

* * *

Two police officers had shown up at Devin's door at three, waking him from bed. His father had been driving home at one thirty that morning when a drunk driver in a full size Chevy Blazer had cut across the median and hit him head on. They wanted to call his friend's parents and take him there, they had said. **He** had wanted to just sit on the couch and wait for someone who cared about him to show up. He vaguely remembered handing over Beau's number. At least he thought he had. Devin hadn't spoken a word since he opened the door.

* * *

There had been nothing the paramedics could do. Archie Kellerman was long since dead when they arrived. At least, they supposed, he hadn't suffered. 

_How on earth do they know if he suffered or not?_ Beau was sitting in her rental car, staring at her own eyes in the rearview mirror. _It's not like the police would have said, "I'm sorry. You're father is dead. He suffered a great deal." Yeah, right._

She sighed heavily and levered herself out of the car and into the stifling California air. She made her way up the long walk to the cheery front door of the suburban home. Taking another breath, she knocked.

It didn't take long before the door was flung open to reveal a woman who was probably in her early forties. She wore khaki shorts and a pink twin-set and her hair was cut short, revealing ears that stuck out cutely. She was nervously fingering the strand of pearls at her neck, but stuck her hand out.

"Mrs. Conway."

Beau shook quickly and looked over the woman's shoulder. "Beau, please. Mrs. Ragland, right?"

Ushering Beau in and shutting the door behind her, the woman nodded. "Yes. Call me Cathy, though. You made it here quickly. How are you feeling after traveling?" She eyed Beau's stomach pointedly. "What can I get you?"

Beau gave her a small smile, very grateful for the air conditioning, and rubbed a hand subconsciously across her lower back. "I'm fine. Thank you for having Devin come here last night." She looked down at her watch. "It doesn't feel like it was just this morning." It was a rhetorical statement, but Cathy nodded. "How is he?"

She dropped her eyes to the floor. "Not good." She pointed down the long hallway and Beau caught a glimpse of a sliding glass door and a pool beyond. "He's outside."

It was all Beau needed to hear and she was headed in that direction. As she quietly slid open the door she was temporarily knocked back by the heat. And then she was knocked back again by the image of Devin sitting on the side of the pool. She had not seen him in person for almost a year and she was stuck by how much he had changed. He was sitting on the top of the pool steps, his elbows on his knees and his head bowed so that he had not seen her yet. She took advantage of that to take in the little boy that had grown into the young man.

He was taller. _God, can you grow that much in a year?_ He was probably almost 6'2". He would tower over her, that was all she knew. His hair was longer than the last time she had seen it. He was wearing it in the style that was so popular, his curls unkempt and shaggy and falling over his ears and just hiding the tops of his big blue eyes. _Those eyes must drive the girls wild_, she thought, smiling a little.

His arms were visible below the sleeves of his band t-shirt. _Over It_, she thought it read from the only letters that were observable. She saw the sinewy muscles and tan skin. He no longer had little boy arms. Physically, she realized, he was a man.

He wore too big jeans that revealed boxer shorts in the back. He had not bothered to roll them up before sticking his legs in the pool and Beau was almost positive that he didn't even feel the cool water creeping up his legs, already almost to his knees. He was staring into his hands and Beau felt physically ill watching him.

Sucking in a breath she walked quietly over and lowered herself down to sit next to him. She was sure that until she laid a hand on his shoulder for support Devin had not known she was even there.

They said nothing for a very long moment, Beau mirroring his pose and thinking about something profound to say. It was the second time she had found herself pondering just this question during her friendship with him, and still she came up with nothing. Finally, she settled on simplicity.

Reaching over, Beau laid the hand that held her wedding band over Devin's larger ones where they were tightly locked together. She scooted a fraction closer and reached up to tuck an unruly curl behind his ear.

"This fucking sucks, kid."

All he had heard for the past eight hours was how everything happens for a reason. It was his dad's time. It was an accident. He would be okay. They would take care of him.

Finally, someone had gotten down to the truth of it. It was like something in Devin broke at those words. He tilted his head, his eyes big and blue and filling with tears. He opened his mouth, looking at her desperately.

Beau felt everything in her stop when Devin turned those helpless eyes on her. She laid her palms against his cheeks and wiped away the first tear with her thumb, unable to speak. She nodded, making sure he understood that she was there for him. He lifted a hand to his stomach and clutched there and Beau knew what he was saying. She remembered it from the floor of the Pennington ice arena. She had felt that same feeling when she had learned that her twin brother Parker had been murdered. It was like someone was forcibly ripping out each and every one of your internal organs while you were wide awake. It was a feeling that made it impossible to catch your breath.

Devin opened his mouth, trying to suck in air, but his body betrayed him and was reduced to sobbing. Beau nodded again.

"I know, Devin. It hurts." She wanted to do more, all the while knowing she couldn't. "I know."

Still crying, Devin laid his head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through his hair, his face turned away from her as he cried for over an hour, until he had nothing left in him to get out.

* * *

"How was your first practice?" Rachel was digging a picture frame out of a box, but stood to smile at Fulton as he came in the door of their new house in Boston. Her smile faded, though, when she saw his face. "What's wrong?" 

He dropped everything right in the middle of the floor and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling as he, for lack of a better word, pouted moodily.

"It sucked. That's how it was."

The words cut and Rachel stuck a hand on her hip, glaring at him. "I'm sorry to hear that Fulton, but keep in mind would you, that I wasn't there and therefore do not deserve all of the ire that you are currently heaping on me."

He looked down, his features already softening. "Ire?"

She walked forward, tiling her head back, offering up her cheek. "Anger."

Obliging her, Fulton leaned way down and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Nerd."

"Yes I am." Pulling out the only clean dining room chair she pointed at it and Fulton sat down, folding his arms on the table and nodding his thanks when she handed him a huge glass of ice water.

"The guys on this team hate each other, Rach." He took a big gulp and she just waited to let him continue. "There is all of this contract negotiation going on and people wanting more money and others thinking they don't deserve it and no one talks to each other." He ran both hands through his hair and Rachel suppressed a smile at the few pieces that were still sticking up. "I don't know how on earth we're going to win any games at all if they can't even be in the same room together. How's that going to translate onto the ice?"

Rachel had walked into the kitchen while he was talking, looking into the dining room through the open space between the two rooms. She ambled back now, opening a beer and passing it to him after taking a drink first herself. "I guess you'll see, huh?" He stared at her. "You'll make it work, Fulton."

* * *

Standing in the Ragland's kitchen and looking into the living room where Devin was playing Halo 2 with his friend Chris, Beau was struck by the thought that he was doing a little bit better. _Playing video games is probably letting him feel normal for five minutes._

He had stayed home from school and practice that day, and Cathy Ragland had let Chris stay home as well. As she handed Beau a glass of iced tea the women smiled sadly at each other. Beau took a sip and rubbed her belly absently.

"When are you due?"

Beau shook her head, bringing herself back to the present and smiled. "Two months, but they think I'll go a few weeks early." She patted her belly. "Twins."

Cathy smiled. "Oh how fun! Do twins run in your family."

"Well, there were none that anyone knows of before me, but I had a twin brother."

Cathy was aware of the fact that Beau had used the word 'had' but choose not to question her on it. It was already a hard enough week. She was touched to see that the girl was again staring sadly into the living room where her son was sitting with Devin. They had turned off the video games and were now watching ESPN. Beau's voice was soft when she spoke.

"I need to talk to him but I hate to pull him out of there when he seems to be having a good time. I don't want to set his world upside down again."

Cathy laid a hand on Beau's shoulder. "His world's going to be upside down for a long time, honey. I'll get Chris. You two can talk in there." Before Beau could say anything Cathy was heading towards the back yard. "Chris! I need your help outside."

Devin was still watching television when Beau approached. Tucking a leg under her considerable weight she sat down facing him on the couch. He sent her a tentative smile but it wasn't enough to hide the huge black circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept the night before. She had heard him fidgeting in the guest room beside her as she had lain awake in the dark.

His voice was gravelly and Beau found herself worrying that he was making himself sick. "How did it go with my dad's lawyer?"

Beau shrugged. "It was fine." Reaching out a hand she touched his knee. "Devin, we need to talk."

He looked around him for the remote and when he couldn't find it he hopped up nimbly and muted the television. He sat back down, this time facing her, his face wary. He'd had enough bad news for a lifetime.

She started slowly, having practiced the speech in the car, but now unable to remember the words. "I'm assuming you know by now that your dad had a will, right?" Devin nodded. "Well first I want you to know that you don't need to worry about money at all. Your mom and dad both had pretty serious life insurance policies, because they wanted to make absolutely sure that they took care of you. So don't worry about that, okay?"

He nodded again, staring down at his legs, and Beau could tell that he was trying to find the right way to say something. She sat quietly, watching him struggle with it, and waited for him to speak. When he finally did, he looked up at her with such mournful eyes that it nearly broke her heart.

"I figured that, but…" He gulped and closed his eyes for a long moment. "Where am I going to go? I don't have any family, you know?"

The tone in his voice was pure desperation and it had Beau reaching out to grab his hand. "You don't have any blood family, that's true. But you've **always** had family in me, I hope you know that." Devin said nothing, staring down at their joined hands. "Devin, your father stipulated in his will that he wanted Charlie and me to become your guardians if anything ever happened to him."

Devin jerked his head up, his eyes wide and hopeful, his voice disbelieving. "But you guys have the babies coming." He shook his head. "I'd just be in the way."

Beau squeezed his hands, her brow furrowing. "Stop that." It was said lovingly. "You could never be in the way. You're like a brother to me. You know that. This is the perfect solution."

He smiled tentatively, but then it faded in uncertainty. "What does Charlie think about it?"

Beau laughed a little, her mind flashing back to the phone conversation she had had earlier:

"_Well," she had just finished telling Charlie. "What do you think?"_

_There had been a long pause where she could just picture him sprawled out in his home theatre watching game film. "I think that you were right with what you said a long time ago, Beau. You can't drop a fifteen year old on his head by accident." He chuckled. "I think there's a terribly sad reason behind it, but I think it will be great. He's been family since he was twelve. There's no place else he **should** go."_

Back in the present, Beau looked at Devin, a wry smile spreading across her lips. "He's excited because he thinks he can cancel the lawn service now and just pay you to do it." The comment elicited a small smile from Devin and again she squeezed his hand. "He thinks that there is absolutely no place else in the world that you should go. In fact, he's already putting in phone calls to the local high school hockey coach."

When the smiled slid off of his face she sighed. "I hate that you're going to have to change schools again, kiddo. If Charlie's job was more flexible we'd move out here, you know that." Thinking about it, she motioned towards the back porch. "Mrs. Ragland said you could finish out the school year here if you want."

He shook his head. "No way." How could he put into words that he wanted to be with her and Charlie? That they were the only people in the world he could imagine living with if he couldn't have his parents back. "It's just that…" He looked up at her again, eyes filling with tears for the second time. "You realize that this means you suddenly aren't just going to have the babies, right? I'm going to be someone else to cook dinner for, someone else taking up space, someone else to worry about. I can try to stay out of the way, but you realize this changes everyone's lives, right?"

As a tear slid down her cheek, Beau glared at him. "Shut up, Devin." She pulled him into a hug and felt her heart clutch when his tears soaked through her shirt and onto her shoulder. "The fact that we're even having to have this conversation is just the worst ever. You're dad was a good good man. Yeah, our lives are going to be changed, but it means that I get to have you in my life everyday and there is no way at all that I could ever see that as a bad thing. Our babies will be lucky to have you as a big brother."

**

* * *

Paula**: Thanks for the name suggestions. Noted. I don't know where I'm going with Connie and Guy. We'll see, but if things don't work out maybe there will be a Paula in his future!

**Joank**: Glad you like the sub-plot. Also, thanks for the name suggestions. That's the craziest thing about the hearts.

**Duckys**: Thanks for the names. Yeah, you can expect tons of drama in this story. I'm feeling angsty lately.

**AdoptedThug**: Thanks for the compliment. It was much appreciated.

**Johnny**: Guy will be okay. Don't worry.

**NikChic**: Yay! I always love new reviewers. Thanks for the feedback and glad you liked the first as well!

**Duckfluff**: I think this has been my biggest cliffhanger, but I'm glad you liked it. Good names too, thanks! And Charlie…mmm. I told you before that I met Josh Jackson right? Just a good looking and sweet in person.

**antiIrony**: Yup, almost 8 years. Crazy, huh? And thanks!

**Sinbin05**: Sorry work has been so crazy. That's so funny you liked that paragraph. It also cracked me up because I could just see the look on Guy's face!


	8. Being Guy

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"We have new information in the story we've been bringing you on the Orange County man killed when his car was hit head on by a drunk driver." Kimball looked solemnly into the camera, hoping Adam wasn't at home watching. He had been quite upset by the news. Kimball briefly remembered meeting Devin and his father at the Conway wedding, but she knew that Adam had invited them to several of his games. "Archie Kellerman died instantly when James Denton crossed the median of the coastal highway early this week. Denton, also of Los Angeles, was charged today with assault with a deadly weapon, manslaughter, and driving while under the influence. He was released on bail and will be arraigned next week. Kellerman is survived, as we've reported, by his fifteen year old son." She turned slightly in her seat, pulling off her glasses and smiled sadly at her co-anchor. "It's a sad story, Tom." 

He nodded at her, pursing his lips. "Yes it is." He turned, offering the audience a half smile. "And that's the news for tonight. Thanks, as always, for joining us."

Kimball smiled herself. "We'll see you tomorrow night."

The theme music poured from the speakers and as their microphones were turned off the two anchors straightened the papers in front of them and smiled as the weather and traffic reporters joined them at the desk.

"And we're out!" The minute the production assistant said the magic words, Kimball was pulling off her wire and heading towards her dressing room. Her best friend Julia was waiting for her and there had been promise of a pizza.

"Mmmm." Her stomach was growling just thinking about it. This was something they did once a week, without fail. Julia was a flight attendant and between her schedule and Kimball's they had to schedule time to make sure they were able to see each other. She got to the end of the hall and flung open the door. "I am **so** hungry!"

Julia looked up, blond hair tied back in a messy pony-tail, a piece of pizza half-way in her mouth, and grimaced.

Kimball opened her mouth in protest. "You started eating without me?" She sat down and grabbed her own piece, popping open a Diet Coke. "You're terrible."

Julia shrugged, beautiful despite the fact she was stuffing her face. "Yup. I am. I was starving too. Sorry." Mouth full, she pointed her elbow across the room. "Some assistant type kid dropped off that mail sack. Said it was your **fan** mail." She winked. "Kevin I think his name was. He was cute."

"He **is** cute. Not **Adam cute**, but cute." She took a big bite and groaned with happiness.

Julia opened her mouth and stuck her finger in, pantomiming vomiting. "**Adam cute**. Gross. You are so far gone with this guy it's ridiculous."

Kimball stopped for a second, her eyes roving to the ceiling before she grinned devilishly at her friend, tucking a piece of red hair behind her ear. "I am, aren't I?" She paled a little. "I'm meeting his family this coming weekend, so that's totally terrifying." She swiveled in her chair, stretching to reach the bag Kevin had dropped off. "Fan mail, huh?"

"Guess that's what happens when you're the hot new news anchor."

Kimball wiggled her brows. "Hot, huh?" Still chewing reverently, she pulled out a few envelopes and tore one open. Laughing she held up a picture drawn by a small child for Julia to see. It featured what she supposed was a big desk sitting pleasantly beneath a rainbow and a stick figured she assumed was her. She figured it was her, of course, because of the fire engine red swirls surrounding her head and looking a little to much like her own hair for comfort. It was signed "Kate, 6 years old."

"Nice." Julie laughed a little. "The real question is, what kind of crazy people are letting their six-year-old stay up to watch the ten o'clock news?"

"Good point." But Kimball still stuck the drawing aside to take home and tack to her bulletin board.

The next envelope contained a letter from a local high school teacher. She was holding a career day of sorts in her classroom and wanted to know if Kimball might be interested in coming in to speak. "I think that the combination of your age and your good looks will actually get some of my male students to listen." The teacher had actually written that. Kimball showed it to Julia who tossed her head back and laughed heartily.

"What is this world coming to?"

Kimball sighed. "Who knows? It's a sad state of affairs. That's for sure." Setting aside a piece of pizza that was rapidly growing cold, she picked up her soda and took a sip. There was a large manila envelope at the bottom of the pile. Growing curious, she pulled it out and broke the seal. It took her a very brief moment to figure out why the letter inside sent chills down her spine. It had to be a joke.

It wasn't written so much as cut and pasted. The brief body of the note was put together from letters from newspapers and magazines. It read "Kimball, You are too beautiful to be inside my TV screen. I wait patiently for the day we meet in person." Short and simple and to the point - the very creepy and inappropriate point.

Kimball set down her drink, no longer thirsty, and thrust the paper at her friend. "This is totally weird, right?"

Julia scanned it, her eyes narrowing. "It's beyond weird. You need to show this to someone."

Kimball suddenly felt very silly and shook her head. "Oh I'm sure it's just a joke. I don't want to get anyone all upset." That said, she widened her eyes. "You can **not** tell Adam. He will freak out. I mean seriously **freak out**." Feigning comfort she picked up her pizza and resumed eating.

Julia was skeptical. "I would think Adam would be the exact person you should tell."

Pointing a piece of pizza at her friend she glared. "Keep your big mouth shut, Julia."

* * *

Devin stood inside the foyer holding his bags and looking completely lost. He was gazing around at the huge house and couldn't quite comprehend how he had gone from his small apartment with his dad to this. It actually reminded him of a larger version of the house he had shared with his mother in Minneapolis. 

Beau came in behind him, shutting the door and yelling Charlie's name. As she passed by him to hang her purse on the banister she briefly swept a hand across his shoulder. "Set your bags down, kiddo."

He did, still a little speechless, but smiled warmly when Charlie came striding in from the direction he assumed was the kitchen. He was wearing an apron that sported some silly quote about grilling and he smelled of charcoal. But his smiled was huge. "Devin!"

He got all the way to the boy before stopping awkwardly. Not knowing what he was supposed to do, Devin stuck out his hand. "Thanks for having me, Charlie."

Charlie felt his heart weaken at the soft sound in the teenager's voice and without a second thought he pulled him into a quick embrace, ruffling Devin's hair. He spoke softly but firmly. "No thanks required. This is your home, too." Stepping back he eyed the kid up and down. "When the hell did you get so tall? What are you…6'3" now?"

Devin smiled weakly. "6'4"."

Charlie nodded, impressed. "Wow."

"Where is he?" A strong but feminine voice floated down the hallway and Charlie rolled his eyes. He leaned forward, whispering to Devin.

"You can expect excessive hugs and cheek pinching from this one." He stepped aside, a broad smile on his face as he gestured towards the woman coming from the kitchen. "Devin, you remember Beau's mom, Aggie."

Devin stuck out his hand. "Of course. How are you Mrs. Mayland?" From the side of the room Beau shook her head, smiling.

Aggie Mayland sucked her teeth, making a 'tsk' sound and shoved aside Devin's hand. "I don't do handshakes. I do hugs." And then she was pulling the boy, nearly a foot taller than herself, into a tight embrace. "I was so sorry to hear about your parents. Both of them." She pulled back, reaching up to grasp his face in both hands. "Regardless of reason, you're a part of the Mayland family now. Just as much as Smart Mouth over there." She angled her head towards Charlie. "You call me Aggie or Grandma if you feel so inclined. No Mrs. Mayland for my kin." She pulled him down, kissed his forehead, and then turned on her heel and headed back for her corn on the cob. Her voice carried down the hall. "Beau you help him put his things away and then get back down here. No grandson of mine is going to go hungry after a plane flight."

Beau opened her mouth and then closed it again when she looked at Devin and saw tears welling up in his eyes. Never one for manly emotions, Charlie excused himself in the name of burning hamburgers and Beau advanced a step.

"It's all pretty overwhelming, huh?"

Devin looked at her. "I've never had a grandmother. Not since I was a baby." He looked back towards the kitchen in awe. "She's amazing."

Beau smiled, waving her hand and urging him to follow her. "Yes she is."

At the top of the stairs, Beau hung a left and flung open a door. She couldn't quite suppress a smile when Devin carefully hid a wince at the pale yellow and lavender room. "I think you'll be comfortable in here."

Devin nodded, setting his bags on the pale quilt. "Definitely. Thanks."

Beau backed into the hallway. "Let me show you around up here before we get ordered down to dinner." Walking back past the stairs with Devin next to her she pointed out her room, the nursery, and the game room. At the end of the hall there was a closed door. "Oh, you might be interested in this room."

When she opened the door, Devin screwed up his face in confusion. The walls were white, there was a bare queen sized bed smack in the middle of the room, and there was literally nothing else in the way of furniture or decoration. He looked over at Beau.

She edged in past him – an impressive fete with here considerable girth – and sat down on the bed. She patted the space next to her. Devin picked up the thick stack of catalogues sitting there and sat next to her. Pulling the books away from him, she smiled.

"This is **your** home, Devin, and we want your room to be **your** room. You can take your time and stay in the guest room for as long as you like. But in here there are furniture catalogues, paint chips, books that have bed linens, decorations. You pick out exactly what you want and that's what you'll have."

He said nothing for a long moment and finally shook his head. "I can't let you pay for all of that, Beau. It doesn't feel right."

She thought about it for a long moment and then nodded. "I can understand that, Devin, but you are eventually going to have to get that you aren't a guest here. We don't plan to treat you that way." She waved her hand around the room. "This is yours as much as it is mine or Charlie's." She pointed towards the window that overlooked the back yard. "You can swim in the pool anytime and if you track water in the house, you get to clean it up. There will be rules." She rolled her eyes. "Although I haven't thought abut that at all. But you are free to come and go here, as long as we know where you are." She looked over at him. "You're a part of this family now, whether you feel like it or not, and it's our job to take care of you." She caught his eyes and smiled. "It's a job we want." Devin felt like she was reading his mind. "Not a job we feel obligated to do."

Devin was quiet for what felt like a million minutes. Finally he nodded. "Okay. Can I kinda ease into it, though?"

She smiled, patting his back. "Of course you can. Take however long you need."

"Beau!" Both Charlie and her mother were screaming from downstairs. She rolled her eyes and pointed at the wall to a small device near the door, her voice dry.

"Gee, sure is a good thing we had those intercoms installed."

* * *

Guy had started teaching one period of remedial reading per year three school terms ago. It hadn't taken him long to discover that the kids he had in class weren't too dumb to read at the appropriate level. It came down to one of two things. Either they didn't care if they could read or previous teachers and family members didn't care if they could read. Sadly, the latter was far more often the likely cause. 

It was for this reason that Guy relished his 'special' classes. He felt it was where he could make the biggest difference. He got to be the first person to actually care.

His class this year, though, had proven more of a challenge than usual. He had one student, Mario Hunter, who had walked in the first day, looked him up and down, and then rolled his eyes and groaned as he was walking to his seat at the back of the room, "Oh God."

And things had pretty much continued in that vain for almost the entire first half of the school year. Now, as fall and winter approached, Guy was starting to lose his patience. Everyday Mario walked into his classroom and slumped in his desk. Guy had tried moving him to the front row, into a group, out of a group. No matter where he sat Mario averted his eyes to the ceiling, or closed them all together, and paid absolutely no attention.

Mario also refused to do any work. Worksheets, games, reading, tests, whatever. He just didn't do it. He wrote his name at the top and then turned the paper over.

His attitude also left quite a bit to be desired. He rolled his eyes, he sucked his teeth, and he made fun of Guy on a daily basis – made fun of his hair, his clothes, his class activities, hockey. Not loud enough to be disruptive, but just loud enough for Guy to hear. Lately, though, he had really begun to cause problems in class. On Monday he had been slumped in his back row seat and as Guy was talking he glanced in Mario's direction. Upon making eye contact, the sixteen-year-old started cussing and mumbling under his breath.

Guy had given the student a warning. When Mario only continued to curse and talk, he was sent to the back of the room. He picked up his desk, slamming it down on the floor. Guy had then ordered the young man to take a team time out in the social studies class next door. Mario had left alright, but had not gone next door. He had wondered off down the hall beating on the lockers. Guy kept his cool, as he always did, but the incident shook him. He called Mario's mother – as he had done countless times before - who told him, "Not to call unless he had a real fucking problem." (Nice, huh?) When a similar interaction took place on Tuesday, Guy wrote Mario up, landing the boy in In-School Suspension for all of Wednesday. Hell, Mario would probably like the change of being in a classroom where no one cared what you did as long as you kept your mouth shut. Guy was still not sold on the merits of such a punishment.

So Wednesday afternoon Guy trudged in the door of his house, laughing as he was greeted by Attila and Ralph. "Well, at least someone loves me." After a long walk around the neighborhood and a pathetic dinner of salad and bread, he sat down at the kitchen table to try to get some grading done.

He was surprised to find, when going through his third period papers, that Mario Hunter had actually turned in his test on Egyptian Mythology. "Huh." Guy took a long drink of water and tilted his chair back, staring at the completed paper as if it might bite. "Guess he got extra bored in ISS."

Hunkering down over the work he sighed when he realized that each and every question was very neatly answered with the exact same five words. "Kiss my ass, Mr. Germaine."

"Great." He scanned the two page exam, making sure that there were no real answers, and then wrote a zero at the top of the test before marking it down in his grade book. He looked back through the gridded paper and felt his head spin at the long line of zeroes. He had not been able to get this kid to do one single thing during the year. He didn't even do the assignment where he was asked to bring in rap lyrics. Mario **loved** rap music. And Guy couldn't help but think that he was someone failing this kid

He dropped his head down to the table, exhausted and frustrated, and felt only mildly comforted when Attila licked his bare foot. "Thanks, boy."

Across the room the phone rang and Guy and the dog exchanged weary sighs before the only one of them with opposable thumbs finally got up to trudge across the room and answer.

"Hello?" There was a long silence, followed by a deep breath. Guy looked at the dog and raised his eyebrow. "Hello?"

"Hiya, Guy."

The voice knocked the breath clean out of his lungs and he felt like he should sit down. Unfortunately the table was all the way across the room and the phone was not a cordless. Desperate to get his head to stop spinning, Guy sank to the floor, the cabinet handles digging into his back, and ran a hand through his sandy hair.

"Hi Connie."

She sighed again deeply on the other end of the line. "So how's it going?" Nonchalant. You know, no big deal. He had been waiting for this call for months and he had imagined it going nine hundred different ways. But Connie casually saying 'so how's it going' as if they had talked the day before and totally **not** broken up, was not one of his musings. He didn't really know how to respond.

"Uh. It's going, I guess." He spoke slowly, unsure where this was headed. "How's it going with you?" He felt a little bile rising up in his throat and recognized it as a rare sign of anger. He was pissed, Guy realized. They had dated since middle school, he had wanted to get engaged, and then out of the blue she had dumped him without a backwards glance and now she was calling him to say 'how's it going?'

"Not great actually." Her voice sounded tense, unsure, and Guy felt a small tinge of satisfaction in that. "I've been playing like shit for the past couple of months."

"I know. I saw your game last night." Guy kept his voice even, despite the fact that he wanted to hold the phone in front of his face and scream. Scream something like 'you broke my heart and now you want to chit chat' or 'screw you, Connie. You don't get to string me along for fifteen years and then cut the cord with no consequences.' But he didn't.

"Ouch." Connie felt the sting of the words, but didn't respond further. "I've just been really distra…"

Guy's head was reeling. He couldn't believe she was just going to make small conversation when things had ended the way that they had. He couldn't take it.

"Distracted. Yeah. I know how that goes. Look, Connie. This really isn't a good time. I'm grading papers and…" She interrupted him.

"You're grading papers at nine at night?"

He stared distantly across the room. "Yes, I'm grading papers at nine at night. I work until three thirty and then I coach practice from four until six and then I come home, play with the dog, eat, and do more work. That's my life now. Shocking how you didn't know."

The words came out harsh and he was surprised to hear his own tone. He realized in that instant that he was bitter that Connie didn't respect what he was doing as a teacher. She saw his inability to play professional hockey as a failure. He saw it as a new door opened to a life that left him feeling very fulfilled. Until Mario Hunter of course.

Connie sighed. "Guy, you're not making this easy."

He stood up now, a little concerned when Attila shrunk back under the table, but unable to control the level of his voice. Guy didn't yell often, and the animal didn't like it. "Why should I make it easy? It wasn't easy when you just up and left. I'm sorry if you aren't playing well because you miss us or the idea of us or whatever. But you can't just waltz in and out of my life when it suits you. You have to care about me, and about what I do, and most of all you have to respect me. I always thought that you did. I felt the best about myself when I was with you. But now…you just make me feel like I could be doing more. And I know that isn't true. Goodnight, Connie."

And then he hung up. Breathing heavily he walked stiffly to the table and sat down. He should have felt liberated. He should have felt justified. Of course, being Guy, he just felt guilty about the way he had yelled at her. After a long moment of silence, Attila walked over and jumped into his lap. "Oof." Guy huffed out a breath, smiling at the seventy pound dog who thought he was a lap pet. He scratched behind one big brown ear and sighed. "What the hell did I just do, huh?"

**

* * *

Duckfluff**: Don't worry. The babies will be coming soon. I grew up in Wilmington, NC where they filmed DC and I was an extra in a couple of episodes. He's just super friendly and likes to hang around and talk to people. Ah memories!

**anitIrony**: I'm glad you like the solution. Sounded perfect to me too!

**AdoptedThug**: I'll be honest and say that I'm not sure where the things with Fulton's team is going, but I guess we'll see soon. Any suggestions?

**Joank**: Growing indeed. Guess we'll see how the dynamic works out.

**Aradia-rising**: Thank you so much for saying that. I re-wrote that dialogue a million times and was still not sure how I felt about it.

**Duckys**: Many more surprises are in store.

**Johnny**: I am sorry to report that Guy will not be feeling better soon. As said in the summary, I've got angst clouding my brain and you can expect heaps and heaps of it for just about everyone involved!

**Hockey-girl90**: Thanks for being so faithful. Glad you liked it!

**Paula**: Can't promise anything. Maybe they'll work it out! Haha I've started reviewing your story. It's coming along nicely. Keep it up!


	9. Soon

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Devin's first day at Farmington Hills High School was pretty much like first days at a new school go. He got stared at in every class, his teachers grilled him on what he had been doing in his previous courses, and when lunch time rolled around he sat by himself. Eating lunch alone is always so humiliating. Luckily, though, his locker had been jammed shut and he had been forced to carry around all of his things. It was lucky because during lunch he had his hockey stick propped up against his seat.

"Hey man, you play puck?" Devin swallowed a bite of sandwich, dragging himself out of his own thoughts and swiveled his head around to look at the two boys that were standing behind him. He nodded.

"Yeah. I just moved to town. I start workouts with the varsity team this afternoon."

The taller of the two who would still measure up two inches shorter than Devin, let out a low whistle. "Varsity, huh? What are you, a junior?" He pointed at the seat across from where Devin sat. "Mind if we sit down?"

He took another bite of his food and nodded. "Be my guest. And I'm a sophomore."

Now the other one, a skater-punk if Devin had ever seen one, let out his own impressed sound. "Cool, man. You'll be the only underclassman on the team." He gave a little wave as he straddled a seat partway down the table. "I'm Kennedy Smith." He indicated his friend. "That's Brady Kent." He grinned, a quick flash of teeth, and Devin knew without a doubt that Kennedy could get into some serious mischief. "We're captains of Varsity. Welcome to the team."

* * *

Cole Procida was lonely up in Canada. He was a hotshot hockey star, sure, but fans shaking your hand and asking for your autograph just wasn't the same thing as your friends and family. And his teammates…well his teammates were all married or dating someone seriously. He was also starting to feel very much not like himself. He had always been so self-assured and pleased with his life.

Now he saw Beau and Charlie getting ready to have their first babies, and Averman and Goldberg loving their jobs, and Adam dating Kimball, and Rachel and Fulton getting married and buying a house. And what was he doing? He was going to practice everyday and then coming home and sitting on his ass.

He was thinking all of this as he sat in the hot tub on his back deck and talked to Beau. He had spent a good half hour grilling her on the impending baby delivery and on Devin moving in before he acquiesced to discussing his personal life. He could just picture Beau standing in her kitchen, one hand on her hip and the phone raised to her ear. If she had a third hand, she would be wagging a finger in the air.

"What you need, Cole, is a woman in your life. Someone who can take all your sarcasm and can deal with your wonderful idiosyncrasies."

He shrugged to himself, watching as his breath formed a cloud in the cool night air. "But you're already married, Beau."

"It's true. I probably am the only woman who could put up with you on a full time basis." He could hear the grin in her voice.

"You did it for four years." He smiled, thinking back to the times when she lived down the hall. He had prided himself on driving her crazy and missed their witty banter on a daily basis.

She laughed. "I live in constant amazement of that fact." Not only could he hear the smile now, but Cole could hear how tired she was. It must be hard carrying around what the doctor's were surmising was twelve pounds of baby.

He ran a wet hand through his curly hair and dropped his head back to rest on the edge of the hot tub. "You should get some sleep, Mayland." He knew that he was the only one that still called her by her maiden name, but he couldn't quite seem to shake the habit. "You'll call me when you pop those kids out, right?"

"Gross. But yes, Mr. Charming, I will. Take care of yourself, huh?"

He smiled, sinking lower into the water and feeling the heat seeping into his sore muscles. "Yes ma'am. Love you."

"Love you too, Cole." Hearing the click on her end of the line, Cole dropped the phone over the side of the tub and let his head sink below the water.

* * *

Devin hadn't expected much on his sixteenth birthday. He had only been in Michigan for two weeks and while he knew that Beau had the date on her calendar, they were all still getting used to sharing the same space and he wasn't sure anything was planned. With Aggie Mayland in the house until the birth of the babies, and Beau being Beau, he should have known better.

When he woke up that morning there had been banners and streamers everywhere. Literally, **everywhere** – hanging from banisters, chandeliers, lamps, pictures. Everywhere you looked there were bright bursts of color.

He was drawn downstairs by the sweet smell of pancakes and when he stepped into the kitchen, hair still wet from his shower, he was bombarded with a raucous chorus of "Happy Birthday." Beau and Aggie finished the song, arms spread, huge grins on their faces, and plates of food held before them. Devin couldn't help but blush. He sat down at the table and clapped.

"Wow."

Beau gave him a quick hug and a wink. "Singing doesn't run in our family. Sorry."

He grinned at both women, digging into the flapjacks appreciatively. He talked around a sticky mouthful of food. "This is great. Thanks." Beau shoved a napkin at him and his grin grew even wider. It had a note from Charlie scrawled on it, barely legible.

_I'll pick you up after practice and take you to get your license. Hope you've been practicing with someone other than Beau. She's neurotic since she got pregnant. Happy b-day. C_

He looked up to see Beau glaring at the note, reading over his shoulder. He sheepishly crumpled it and shoved it in his pocket. He would never tell anyone he planned to save it, but hey - some things were important.

He glanced down at his watch and shoved another half of a pancake in his mouth, hearing Kennedy honk his horn on the front drive. "I'm gonna miss my ride. I've gotta jet." He hopped up, shrugging on his jacket and kissing the cheek that Aggie had stuck out. He pointed at the table. "This was great. Thanks." Running towards the front door, Devin smiled again at the streamers and grabbed his stick and skates. He bolted out the door, waving at his teammates and as a last thought, stuck his head back in the door. "Bye, Beau. Bye, Grandma."

In the kitchen, Beau turned to her mother as the door slammed, shaking the floor. They stared at each other for a very long moment before Beau finally spoke. "That was the first time he called you that, right?"

Aggie only nodded. After another long moment, both women burst into tears.

* * *

Kimball had broken down and gone to the high school career day. The teacher's letter had been less than inviting, but she felt like the cause was good. Ultimately, it had been a fun experience, but now she was looking forward to her early dinner at home with Adam before she had to go in to work.

When she pulled up at her apartment complex his SUV was already in the spot next to hers and she flushed a little when his presence brought a smile to her face. She trudged up the stairs and slipped quietly in the door. Adam was standing in her kitchen, sleeves rolled up, cargo shorts hanging low, feet bare, and carefully unwrapping Chinese food and putting it on plates. She stood and watched him for a minute and thought how right he looked in her space.

Had she known Adam had recently had similar thoughts, watching her sit on his parents' back deck, laughing with his mother, Kimball may have decided that it was time for her and him to have a serious talk about their future.

Shaking her head she walked in to stand behind him and kiss his right shoulder blade. "Hi."

He turned around, handing her a glass of wine and bent down to kiss her on the lips, lingering for a long moment. "Hi yourself." He picked up a plate, carrying it into the kitchen table. "How was career day?"

Kimball rolled her eyes and pulled her hair up into an impromptu bun. "Weird. I'm still not used to kids like ten years younger than us being in high school. When did we get so old?"

Adam laughed and retrieved the second plates and the bottle of wine. "It's scary, that's for sure."

Taking a very long sip, Kimball sifted through the stack of mail sitting on her island. She had already noticed the 8x10 envelope and was avoiding it. After setting aside the bills, she finally decided to tear open the manila paper. Carefully pulling out the single sheet of paper, she steeled herself for what she already knew she would find.

When she forced herself to look down at the clipped and pasted words, she felt her blood run cold and she dropped her full glass of wine, completely unaware as it bounced off the edge of the counter and then toppled to the floor, shattering in a million pieces.

* * *

Charlie did indeed pick Devin up from practice. He had actually cleared it with the coach for him to watch the normally closed work-out and he was impressed with what he saw when Devin was skimming across the ice, nearly as fast as Beau had been her freshman year in college. He figured in another year he would surpass her talent. He also felt a strange surge of uncontrollable pride when Devin did a quick triple deke and shot the puck past his friend the goalie and into the net.

Devin, of course, became infinitely cooler in his teammates' eyes when they saw Charlie Conway of the Detroit Red Wings picking him up. People in Detroit were rabid sports fans, and hockey was no different. When they climbed into the Charlie's Tahoe, Devin was having a hard time hiding his smile.

By the time the two of them got home, Devin's brand spanking new driver's license in hand, his smile had broken into a full blown grin. Charlie grabbed the little piece of plastic coated paper from him and jogged into the house, hiking up his loose jeans as he went, and waving the license in the air.

"Devin is officially road legal!"

Beau was setting a huge chocolate cake on the dining room table and looked up from candle lighting with a huge grin. "Alright! Lookout Michigan!"

"Hey." Devin said it as if he was offended, but he still couldn't stop smiling. He hadn't thought that there was any way his birthday could be happy, but these three people were doing absolutely everything in their power to make sure that it was. He sat down at the table and let himself be taken away by the loud chatter swirling around him. If there was one thing the Conway house was, it was loud.

* * *

Adam grabbed the paper out of Kimball's hand.

_Kimball,_

_Soon._

He stared at it for a very long time and then laid it on the counter, face down. "You have a look on your face that says this is not the first one of these that you've gotten." She looked at him, not answering, her green eyes exceptionally wide, and gave Adam his answer without uttering a word. He smacked a hand down on the island tiles. "Oh my God, Red! How could you not tell me?"

She shook her head at first trying to deny the whole situation, but then just trying to explain to Adam. He looked so hurt that she had kept it from him. She reached out, grabbing his hand and holding it between both of hers. "I've gotten a few at work. It just seemed silly at the time." She looked down at the paper again and Adam shook with fury when he saw the color drain from her already pale skin. "This is the first one I've gotten at home." Her eyes darted around to the windows and then lighted on Adam's face, terrified. "How do you think he got my address?" She yanked her hand away, covering her mouth. "Oh my God. He knows where I live, Adam."

Forgetting his initial anger, Adam reached out and enveloped her in his arms. "Okay. It's okay. We need to call the police. And then you'll bring your stuff over to my condo. This is going to be fine."

* * *

Devin had always hated opening presents in front of people. There was all of this pressure to react in the right way. To be grateful and excited enough. Not surprisingly, he didn't feel that way around Beau, Charlie, and Aggie.

He laughed as he pulled the neon green paper from a small box. Aggie was on the edge of her seat, watching him excitedly. When he opened the box he smiled, the expression genuine. He pulled out the supple leather wallet and looked up. "This is great. Thank you **so** much." He had only ever had the cheap nylon ones with Velcro.

Aggie clapped her hands once and then sat back, arms crossed. "Everyone needs a new wallet to put their first license in. It's the same thing that I got Parker and Beau on their sixteenth birthday." She looked lovingly at her daughter who nodded, unconsciously mimicking her mother's pose.

"I remember. Mine was red leather. I thought it was so badass." She looked pointedly at Charlie and then smiled at Devin who was already sliding his license into the plastic slot. "My present is running a little late, but it should be here Friday night by dinner. I'm sorry, buddy."

Devin shrugged. "Don't apologize. You guys didn't have to get me anything. The pancakes and the decorations were plenty. Thank you."

Charlie stood up, rubbing his hand on the back of his jeans. "I actually have something for you outside. It's from all of us, but I'm saying it's from me because…" he dropped his voice an octave, "it's a manly gift." He headed towards the front door, beckoning everyone to follow. "C'mon."

When Devin stepped out onto the front stoop he felt stuck in his tracks. Charlie was standing on the wrap-around driveway, arms thrown open wide, a huge grin spread across his face. Behind him sat his classic Mustang convertible. It was a muscle car and had been restored to prime condition. Devin had admired it on more than one occasion. He opened his mouth, couldn't find the words, and shut it again, shaking his head. Finally he clasped his hands on the top of his head. "Oh man. No **way**."

Beau nudged him gently in the back as Charlie tossed him the keys. Without thinking, he caught the ring and bolted towards the car, hopping over the door and into the driver's seat. He was dimly aware of Beau saying she was cold and going back inside, but he was still speechless. Well, speechless with the exception of repeating the words 'oh man' over and over.

After several minutes Charlie opened the door and sat down next to him. He was quiet for a moment and then rubbed his hands together, blowing on them. "It's too cold to drive with the top down, but it just looked so much cooler sitting out here like this."

Devin nodded and then dropped his head to the steering wheel. "I can't take this car, Charlie."

Charlie turned in his seat, pulling his leather coat closer around him. "What do you mean you can't take it?"

The boy sat up, tugging his hands through his thick curls in frustration. "It's too big. It's too much."

The older man was quiet, looking up at the stars. When he finally spoke, he looked forward, uncomfortable with the rush of love he was feeling for the kid. "If your dad had bought you a car, would you have taken it?"

Devin was hesitant. "Yeah."

Thinking about what he had said, Charlie backtracked. "I'm not trying to say that I'm anything like your dad, Devin. I guess what I'm saying is that we're not trying to buy your love. We've got the money. It's not an issue. When we have these kids, we'll probably give them cars when they are sixteen as well. Hell, it means you can help out driving Beau around now that she's too fat to get behind the wheel." He jerked his head around, pointing a finger. "Don't you dare tell her I said that. When I said fat I meant beautiful and pregnant."

"Right." Devin nodded solemnly, hiding a smile.

"The point is that you're a good kid and you make good grades and you make good decisions and you deserve good things happening to you."

For another long moment, neither of them spoke and again Devin lowered his head to the wheel. The cold leather felt good against his skin and made it easier to keep his emotions under control when he said what he had wanted to say next. "I'm really happy here, Charlie."

"That's good."

He shook his head gently, keeping it down. "No, I mean I'm really happy here and it makes me feel like shit, you know?"

Charlie was about to say that he didn't know, but then it clicked. _Hey, I'm not half bad at this fatherly advice._ "You feel bad that you're happy after everything that happened with your dad, yeah?"

Devin nodded, thumping his head against the steering column.

"That's normal, Devin. Your poor brain doesn't know what to think. It'll adjust. Plus, you know your Dad would be totally thrilled that you're happy, right? He wouldn't want you spending the rest of your life mourning him. He would just want you to remember him."

"That makes sense." Devin looked up, a thoughtful smile on his face. "I do miss him though."

Charlie ruffled his hair, giving him a small shove and handing him the car keys back again. "He was a great guy. How could you not miss him?" He pulled on his seatbelt. "C'mon. Let's take this thing around the block. Any further and we might get pneumonia."

**

* * *

AdoptedThug: Sorry about all the tense moments. Hope you don't mind them cause I don't see an end in sight!**

**antiIrony**: Glad you were laughing. That makes me happy! And as I type my pitt bull is sitting on my lap. Oof indeed!

**Aradia-rising**: Hmm, a girlfriend for Devin. I don't know. We'll see!

**Duckys**: Guess you'll have to wait and see! Mwa ha ha! (that's my evil laugh)

**Joank**: Hey, I'm a firm believer that you can never have too many subplots in a ducks story. You just never know!

**Sinbin05**: A little Cole, just for you. You can expect a big story with him soon. Not sure how you'll feel about it though.

**Hockey-girl90**: Thanks!

**Johnny**: Well, there's your Adam flipping a lid. We'll see where it goes.

**Duckfluff**: Yeah, the stalker is creepy for sure. Wilmington was a great place to grow up. You can't beat going to the grocery store and running into Josh Jackson (literally…I hit him with a cart because I was digging in my purse for my cell phone.) His response? "Are you okay?" What a cutie!


	10. Leave of Absence

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Adam felt like the police were being ridiculously unhelpful. Yeah Kimball had thrown away the other letters, which was not good, but that was the reality of the situation. Their suggestion had been for Kimball to be aware of her surroundings and not walk anywhere alone a night. _Great. Thanks_, he thought. _We'll make sure to do that._

They were clearing out of her apartment, taking the threatening note with them, and Adam closed the door behind the last officer to leave with a sigh. He settled his head briefly against the wall before turning around to look at her, legs tucked under her on the couch, pillows crowded around her in what looked like a child's attempt at a barrier.

He was quiet when he walked in to face her and finally moved several of the pillows away, sinking down next to her with a sigh and pulling her body into his. "It's going to be okay, Kimball."

She started crying and Adam felt totally helpless. "I just feel so stupid. I should have told someone sooner."

She felt bad enough on her own. Adam didn't need to tell her that yes, she should have told someone. And telling her that his feelings were immensely hurt that she hadn't told him wouldn't help anything either. He was just going to have to be a man and suck it up. He took a deep breath, swallowing back his anger and frustration, and laid his cheek on the top of her head.

"I talked to the station manager. They are going to beef up security at the station and I made a few calls and hired a private company to escort you to and from work every night." He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. "Don't argue with me on this, Red. You are driving around the city really late at night and I'm not going to have you getting snatched right off the road because you're all by yourself." He put a finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at him with watery eyes. "And you're moving into my place for the time being."

He was thrilled to see a grin spread across her lips. "Gosh, Adam. This whole ordeal just gets worse by the minute."

He dipped his head, his hair in his eyes and his lips hovering a breath away from hers. "Shut it." And then he was kissing her breathless.

* * *

"Happy Birthday!" Beau hopped to the side (well, as much as a very pregnant woman can hop) and grinned. Behind her, crowded around the kitchen table, was a loud group of teenagers. 

"Holy crap." Devin dropped all of his bags right where he stood and grinned so hard his cheeks hurt. Chris Ragland, his best-friend and teammate from California was there, a handful of Doritos raised to his mouth. Next to him were Jeremiah Smith and Camille Dougherty, his best friends since childhood growing up in Minneapolis. He had played hockey with Jere, as he called him, almost as soon as they both began walking. Standing by the back door staring at some sort of high-tech phone were Brady and Kennedy from his new team. And sitting at the head of the table, her hand resting comfortably on the head of Murphy, the oversized Mastiff mix that Beau and Charlie had adopted, was Jacinda Hammond. _Holy crap._

Beau leaned over his shoulder, her voice in his ear. "Shut your mouth, Devin. You're chin is on the floor."

He whipped around to stare open-mouthed at her. "How did you do this?"

She shot him a look. "I'm a smart girl." When he only continued to stare at her she rolled her eyes. "I had met Jere and Camille the last time I visited you at your mom's, so I called them up and then I stayed at Chris' when I came to get you in LA. I just called him and asked if there was anyone else in California that he thought I should invite out for the weekend."

"The whole weekend?" His blue eyes were wide and sparkling and it made Beau laugh out loud.

"Yes the whole weekend." She nudged him. "You better go eat something. You've got to drive your friends to the Red Wings game in like 30 minutes." She winked. "Box seats."

He started to walk into the kitchen, anxious to talk to everyone. He only got three steps before he turned around and retraced his path. He shoved his hands very deep in his pockets. "This is awesome. Thanks, Beau." He lunged forward and gave her a huge hug. He didn't even realize that he also rubbed his hand over her belly and looked fondly at the huge lump. Beau of course, didn't miss it and felt her heart swell. Then he grinned at her. "So everyone is staying here for two nights?"

Beau narrowed her eyes. "The girls are sleeping right next door to my room, so don't get any ideas, Casanova."

Devin tilted his head to the side, widening his eyes and looking innocent. He raised his hands to form a circle over his head and pretended to shine his own would-be halo. Walking backwards he smiled. "Who, me?"

* * *

Suddenly it was all about the drama in Guy's life. It was reminding him way too much of his high school days and he didn't like it. Not one bit. He had spent his days then avoiding his family and holing up in his room with a book and his headphones. He had used the blasting music to drown out everything else in the world. 

Now, sitting in the principal's office, he wanted nothing more than to lock himself in a room and let a pounding beat take him away.

"Dr. Fouts, you can't be taking this seriously." He sat leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his hands fidgeting nervously with his tie where it hung between his legs. "This is ridiculous."

Victor Fouts had been working in city school systems since he was thirty. After serving time in the military and then getting his masters and doctorate degrees he began teaching and then had served as a middle school assistant principal for nearly five years. His three year stint at East Side High School was his first as a principal and the situation with Mr. Germaine was taxing every bit of his training.

He leaned back in his desk chair, a formidable figured at 6'5" with his dark black skin and close cropped hair. "Mr. Germaine, I have to take every allegation made by a parent seriously. Mrs. Hunter is no exception to that rule."

"I disagree with you." Guy leaned back himself trying to stop his nervous fidgeting, but his inner alarm bell was ringing resoundingly. "I think you're taking her case **more** seriously than you would most." He sighed. "With absolutely not reason behind it."

Everything had started the previous day. Third period had only fifteen minutes before the bell rang and Guy had been almost all the way through his lesson on Chapter Five of Tears of the Tiger. It was one of his favorite books to teach and the students were really getting into it. Everyone except for Mario, of course.

His thirty students, minus one, were working in three people teams to answer a prediction and actual result sheet on the chapter. Guy had been wandering amongst the desks and stopping at each group when he heard a hissing sound. He had turned around casually to see Mario finishing the task of opening a can of soda and begin drinking it. Guy stood where he was and pointed calmly at the wall. "You know the rules, Mr. Hunter. No food or drink in any classroom." He raised his eyes pointedly. "Not just mine." He walked over and picked up the trashcan and held it out towards the boy who was glowering at him from under hooded eyes. "Throw it out, please."

Guy lived by the rule that his students would respect him if he respected them. He didn't make a scene, he didn't yell, he didn't try to embarrass Mario. He simply stated the rule and asked the boy to abide by the consequences. Mario hadn't seen it that way.

"Fuck that. I just opened it. I ain't throwing it away." He sat back, arms crossed.

Guy sighed. "Mario, you know the rules. You also know the rule about cursing in school. I'm afraid if you don't throw the can away or if you continue to use unacceptable language I'm going to have to write you up."

Mario laughed and looked up directly into Guy's gray eyes. "Fuck. That. I ain't throwing it away." He then sat back and took another long sip.

His heart pounding as the other students watched on, Guy walked calmly to the wall and picked up the intra-school telephone. He waited patiently for the school secretary to answer. When she did, he lowered his voice. "Mrs. Poole. This is Mr. Germaine. Can you please send Office Bonds to my classroom? I need a student removed. Thank you."

Mario surely had not been able to hear the conversation, but he knew the gist of what had been said. He went from antagonizing and completely calm to outraged and out of hand in mere seconds. He stood up, grabbing his book bag – who knew why he bothered to carry it – and slammed the Coke can into a side pocket. He picked his desk up, cursing under his breath and then louder and louder, and then slammed it back down on the floor. He turned around in a wide circle, his book bag slinging behind him, and the open soda can sprayed sticky liquid all over nearby students. A small boy, James, was sprayed in the face.

"C'mon, man. Chill out." He said it nicely, not an accusing tone in the phrase, but it set Mario off nonetheless. He jolted forward, bending down to get in the smaller boy's face.

"What was that, James?" He said the name mockingly. "I know you didn't say shit to me."

Guy took a step forward, pointing at the door. "That's enough Mario. I'm not going to have this in my classroom. Get out, please."

James said nothing and raised his shirt up to wipe at his face.

Mario laughed. "That's what I thought, bitch."

It was enough for James and he stood up quickly, knocking Mario off balance. He stumbled back a step, sucking in a breath and then dropped his book bag and darted forward. In an instant, before even Guy had a chance to react, he had James on the floor and was pounding his head into the linoleum covered cement.

Guy was on them in a second and hauled Mario off, shoving him across the room. He started to bend down to see if James was alright but before he could get a good look at him, Mario was straddling him again, his hands wrapped around the other boy's throat.

"That's enough!" Guy wasn't used to yelling and it sounded foreign even to his own ears. He grabbed a hold of the back of Mario's shirt and yanked as hard as he could. He still trained for hockey every day with his team and he was in good shape. Mario came flying up and Guy gave him another hard shove towards the door. His goal was to put his hands on the sixteen-year-old as little as possible, but Mario kept charging back towards James a scary gleam in his eyes. "Get out!"

By the time he got Mario close to the hall door, the boy's attention had turned on him, his mouth open and his eyes hateful. "You're a fucking racist, you know that?" And before Guy could register what he had just been accused of Officer Bonds had been at the door grabbing a hold of Mario's shoulders and hauling him off down the hall.

Mario had been suspended for eleven days and first thing the next morning his mother Pam had called a meeting with Dr. Fouts and accused Guy of discriminating against her son. He had given up on him, she said, and wasn't doing his job as a teacher because her son was black.

Guy sat forward and placed his hands on the principal's desk. "Dr. Fouts. You know me. You know there is no truth behind this. That boy has done nothing in my class since day one. I've tried everything with him. I've talked to you about that before! He's certainly not the only African American student in that class. Ninety percent of my students are minorities. Have you ever had another complaint against me?"

Fouts shook his head. "It doesn't matter that you have one hundred and forty other students Mr. Germaine. What matters is that this one's mother feels you are practicing inappropriate discrimination in your classroom. I have to take that seriously." What was going unsaid was that Pam Hunter was the wife of a local police chief who kept gang issues to a minimum at East Side High. Never mind that the Hunters let their son run wild and get away with murder. He looked away, unable to meet Guy's eyes. "Mr. Germaine, I am forced to ask you to take a leave of absence while this is looked into."

"What?" Guy said it softly, his eyes going huge.

"You will provide all documentation from your third period remedial reading class as well as all of your other classes. This includes lesson plans, grades, and tactics for reaching individual students." He fidgeted with a pen on his desk. "I assume you have all of this."

Guy nodded, completely numb. "How long?"

Dr. Fouts looked up. "How long, what?"

Guy shook his head, unable to believe that his boss could be so unsupportive. "How long do I have to take a leave of absence?"

"As long as it takes to sort this mess out." He sighed heavily. "I imagine you'll want to speak to one of the assistant hockey coaches about taking over practices and games with the team and we'll just pass your lesson plans along to the substitute we have coming in."

"What?" Guy was aware that he was raising his voice, but his heart was racing and his head swimming. "I have to turn over the team **and** my classes. You're kidding, right?"

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid that I'm not."

Guy couldn't breath. He felt the room closing in on him and he reached up to loosen his tie. "This is crazy." He looked around. "Crazy."

And then he got up and walked out the front door of the school and down the block to his house.

* * *

Devin was having trouble comprehending that this was happening to him. After the game – Beau had been cooler than cool and sat in seats down on the main level, leaving the kids to the box on their own – they had all gone back to the house. Sometime around midnight Brady and Kennedy had headed home, saying something about having to get up the next morning for the SAT. Everyone else, younger, had laughed and waved good-bye. 

Now at nearly one in the morning, Jacinda and Devin were sitting out in the expansive back yard. Devin had given her his jacket and she pulled it tightly around her, pulling her jet black hair out of the back and smiling at him.

"Thanks." She looked up at the stars. "You know, we miss you back at school. We hate that you had to leave." She looked over at him. "We were real sorry about your dad, Devin."

He nodded, looking up at her. "We?"

She smiled and despite the dark he was sure she was blushing. "Me, I guess."

"I miss you too." He took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in his stomach and reached up with both hands tucking his wild hair behind his ears. "So I guess the long distance thing is like too much, huh? I mean it's like four thousand miles or some insanity like that."

Jacinda was quiet and finally shrugged. "I guess. I don't think it means that we can't be more than friends if we see each other though." She looked over, her eyes hopeful. "Right?"

Devin grinned, an expression that was purely him and she smiled back. "That sounds good to me." Leaning forward he gently took hold of the front of his coat and pulled her towards him. When they were inches apart he dropped the grin. "I'm glad you came out, Jacinda."

She didn't say anything but leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and pressed her cool lips against his. Devin had kissed a couple of girls before, but this was a **kiss**. Within seconds her lips had parted and he tugged on his jacket and led her into his lap. Taking a deep breath she leaned back, every bit a teenager in her wonder. "Wow."

**

* * *

Duckys**: Heck, if I knew Charlie I wouldn't need a Mustang. I could walk and be happy!

**Casnyl21**: Okay.

**Joank**: I'll see what I can do. I'm actually thinking of pulling in Julie. You can imagine it's you! Haha

**Sinbin05**: I love your reviews. So thorough! Thanks for being so dedicated.

**AdoptedThug**: Thanks. I definitely think this will turn out to be darker than Everything's Eventual.

**Hockey-girl90**: Thanks!

**antiIrony**: I'm sure Cole would love you. I'll be honest and say that I was toying with the idea of him coming out the closet and Beau being upset with him for not telling her. But after you and Joank I just can't do that to you!

**Duckfluff**: I hadn't thought of Cole being a little in love with Beau, but I think that is kind of always the case with your best-friends. In some little way, anyway. But I don't have plans for that. He'll find someone!

**Aradia-Rising**: I'm super tall and always HATED it when the tall guys dated the short girls because then who was left for me! Hahaha Nice thought though.


	11. Being a Woman Sucks

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"Would you guys get over yourselves?" Fulton's voice resonated through the locker room and silence ensued. Work-outs that day had been a practice in buffoonery as they had been for weeks. No one was playing at their highest level, everyone was arguing, and the coach was in his own contract negotiations so he didn't really care. To Fulton it seemed like he was the only one that was in it for the love of playing hockey. The fact that he dreaded going to the arena everyday and contending with everyone's egos was really starting to grate on his nerves. 

He kept his head down, tying his Nikes (hello endorsement deal!) and lowered his voice. "I've only been playing with you for a month but already it's clear that you all hate each other and you could give a shit about this sport. It's pathetic." He was being the Fulton that his friends grew up loving. He was quiet, stoic, and he in no way shape or form shied away from telling the true. Unfortunately, his new teammates didn't seem to see this as a positive attribute.

Their starting goalie stood up straighter where he was and glared. "Why don't you shut your mouth, Reed? I think the key part of your statement was 'I've only been playing with you for a month.' Seems to me like team matters shouldn't really concern you."

Fulton stood up to his full height, his voice calm. "So you're saying that I'm not a part of this team."

From the other side of the room an icy voice joined the conversation. "I think that's exactly what he's saying."

There was another very long moment of silence where Fulton expected to feel what he would have felt five years ago. He would have been enraged. He would have been hurt. And he most certainly wouldn't have stood for it. Looking inwardly though, he realized he was none of those things. Mostly he was just sad - extremely sad to see something he loved so much come to such a bad place. He felt absolutely no connection to the people or the team itself. He nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair back under his hat.

Looking around a set of lockers he confirmed that the coach was in his office and then he started walking. "Thanks for clearing things up for me. It's been real."

* * *

"Oh you have **got** to be kidding me!" Beau was standing at the register in the local skate shop as she threw her hands up in the air. Devin had been dying for a new skateboard and she had been dying to get out of the house and away from her mother's protective gaze for ten minutes and a ride with Devin in his new car seemed like the perfect plan. 

Now, standing in the store with a hand on the counter and squinting down at the pool of water at her feet, she was thinking it may not have been as well conceived as she had thought.

Devin sauntered up, grinning broadly at his new board before he saw the astonished look on the kid working the counter's face. He was just staring at Beau and Beau was just staring at the floor. Devin followed her gaze down to a puddle of water. He looked up at the ceiling to see if the air conditioning was leaking and when he saw nothing he crossed his arms.

"Did you drop a drink or something, Beau?" He laughed. "Charlie's right. You are a huge klutz."

She said nothing and looked up at him, her face a little pale. He saw her features tighten and she bit her lip, pressing a hand under her generous belly. He thought he heard a small groan escape her mouth.

Devin's eyes widened. "Oh." He looked at Beau and back down to the water. His tone took on one of understanding. "**Oh**!" His eyes narrowed to slits as he bent down a little, examining the puddle. "Gross."

It was enough to set Beau into action. "No kidding, gross." She shoved her money across the counter to the kid. "That's for the board and extra for the poor sap who has to mop that up. Tell him I'm sorry." And then she was bolting towards the door dragging Devin by the shirt sleeve behind her.

When they got to the car she was pulling her cell phone out of her bag. Devin was trying to open the door for her but suddenly she was leaning against the vehicle, doubled over and breathing heavily. He didn't like seeing her in pain. Beau was always so strong about everything and it scared him a bit to see her look so helpless. "What can I do, Beau?"

She tilted her head, one eye closed and the other barely open but focused on him. "Call my mother. Tell her we're on our way to the hospital." She waved a hand at him. "Go ahead and start the car. I'll be fine in a minute." She resumed breathing and threw her cell phone in his general direction.

He bolted around the car, forgetting how cold it was and yanking off his gloves to punch in numbers. "I'll call Charlie too, okay?"

Beau stood up suddenly, slapping her hands on the soft top of the convertible. "Don't you dare."

"**What**?" Devin had done a good job of suppressing a wince when she slammed her hands on his baby, but he couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "Why wouldn't I call him?"

She glanced down at her watch, the pain seeming to have passed for the moment. "His game starts in an hour. The likelihood of these babies coming anytime in the next ten hours is pretty slim according to what my doctor said. I don't want him running out on a game."

"But, Beau…" Devin didn't want to be the one Charlie came after when he heard that he hadn't been called immediately.

She opened the door. "No buts. Keep an eye on a television and call him the minute the game is over. No sooner, okay?"

"Okay." But Devin was completely skeptical.

* * *

Kimball had received three more letters in a span of two weeks and each one got progressively more terrifying. She was trying to keep her cool, but the truth of the matter was that she was scared. 

Things at the station seemed safe, except for the fact that the letters kept coming there. Only one had been sent to her home address, which seemed to baffle the police. It didn't matter though. She was staying with Adam and none had shown up there.

The worst nights were when Adam was out of town for games and she had to be escorted to his condo by the private security guard and then she slept knowing that the man was sacked out on Adam's couch. Perhaps the more accurate term would be 'laid awake in bed all night wishing Adam was there.' She couldn't explain it. When he was in town she felt absolutely one hundred percent secure. She had no doubt that nothing would happen to her. Maybe it was just nice to curl up with her head on his bare chest and fall asleep listening to the breath slipping in and out of his lungs. But she thought it was more than that. She knew that Adam Banks was willing to lay down his life for her. Not that it would come to that, but talk about the thought counting.

"Goodnight, Kimball."

As she headed out the door being held open for her by Kevin, the security man on duty, she turned and smiled over her shoulder at Keegan, the sportscaster.

"Night!" She walked beside Kevin feeling dwarfed by his massive frame and couldn't help but smile. Dwight, the other guy from the firm, was talkative. He liked to brag about his two sons (both football players), and his beautiful wife, and his new favorite topic of conversation was his family's golden retriever puppy. Kevin, though, seemed to subscribe to the philosophy that body guards weren't doing their job if they didn't seem strong and surly and silent. As usual, he was meeting all three criteria.

As he settled into his SUV, windows shaded an alarmingly dark tint, he glanced over at Kimball waiting for her to buckle her seatbelt. She grinned at him. "How's life, Kevin?"

He nodded, turning the ignition. "Good, thank you."

She leaned against the doorframe. "And you'll be staying at Adam's tonight?"

He nodded again, eyes hidden by dark sunglasses. _It's nearly midnight for goodness sake. He's taking the stereotype a bit too far._

Nearly twenty minutes later they pulled into the complex and Kevin guided her up in the elevator and towards Adam's door. As they walked she pulled out her cell phone and punched in his number. He answered on the first ring.

"You home yet, babe?" His voice was thick and she thought maybe he had had a beer or two after the game. Since when does he call me babe? Adam had never called her babe. He in fact once told her detested the word and had gotten in a fight when someone had called Julie just that. She laughed.

"Since when do you call me babe?"

"I thought I would try it out. What did you think?"

She considered for a brief moment, rolling her eyes when Kevin motioned for her to hand over her key. He insisted on checking out the 'premises' while she waited in the hall. She tossed him the key, quietly clapping when he caught it, and then turned her attention back to the boyfriend that was hundreds of miles away. "I don't think it's working for you, Adam. Why don't you stick with Red?" She fingered a strand of her hair as he often did when he called her by that name.

Now it was his turn to laugh. "Okay, Red. Are you home?"

She loved that he kept calling it home – not 'the condo,' not 'my place,' just 'home.' "Yup. Just got here and Mr. Serious is checking things out but I haven't heard him say anything so I think all is probably well."

"He doesn't really seem like the type that would say anything if he found an intruder. I think you would just hear the sound of the body hitting the floor."

She laughed again and then covered her mouth, mindful of the neighbors and the late hour. "Probably you're right, but I haven't heard and thuds of bodies so I still think everything is fine." She yawned and heard him do the same. "Congrats on the win tonight. Keegan said you played great."

"I did pretty okay, actually. Thanks." When she yawned again his clucked his tongue at her. "You should get some sleep, Kimball."

"So should you." She heard sheets rustling and figured he was already in bed, just waiting for her call. _How cute. _"Alright, well no late night flings with Kevin, okay?"

She laughed when he came back into the hall, nodding to her that all was well. Her voice was dry. "I think I can restrain myself. I love you."

"I love you too." And then the phone clicked off and she was breezing past Kevin and into the warm light of the condo. Sitting on the dining room table was a huge bouquet of what looked to be two dozen tulips, Kimball's favorite. She grinned, putting her hands to her mouth.

"How beautiful!" She searched through for a card but when she found none assumed they were from Adam. He was often doing things like that when he had to travel. He knew that she hated him being away, especially now.

She picked up her phone again, intending to call him with a thank you, but before she could dial the number she remembered him yawning and thought better of it. "I'll thank him tomorrow." She bent down, sniffing the bulbs again and then continued towards the bedroom. "Night, Kevin."

* * *

Fulton came in through the door from the garage and nearly fell over with all of his gear when Rachel bounced into him excitedly. "Guess what guess what guess what!" 

Rachel wasn't really the kind of girl to get super excited. She laughed and smiled and got excited…on the inside. She wasn't really the jump up and down clapping your hands type. And here she was pogoing around their kitchen like a five year old on speed. It was giving him a headache and making him nervous. He looked at her skeptically.

"You're leaving me for Brad Pitt?" That did the trick.

She stopped in her tracks, her eyes rolling towards the ceiling and a smile spread slowly across her lips. "That would be nice, but no." She paused for a brief moment but knew he had no intention of guessing again. "Beau is having the babies!"

It brought a genuine smile to his face – the first of the day. "No way. Like, right now?"

She smiled back. "Yes, like **right** now." She clapped her hands again, but this time it seemed right. "Devin will call us later with an update."

He dropped everything unceremoniously to the floor. "That's very cool."

Rachel peered down at what he had dropped and he could see her calculating the sheer amount of his gear that was there. She looked up at him quizzically.

"I quit the team today." Before she could say anything he rushed on. "I know I should have discussed this decision with you before, but I just couldn't do it anymore. It was making me hate hockey." His voice broke a little.

Rachel's heart dropped into her stomach. At least that's what it felt like when she heard the hitch in her husband's voice. Fulton never cried. He never got emotion. It wasn't his thing. She took his hands and let him into his favorite room and pulled him to sit down next to her on his favorite couch. "Tell me what happened."

He went through everything he had been feeling for the past month and not a single bit of it came as a surprise to her. It broke her heart when he finally put into words what he had thought every morning for the past two weeks. For the first time in his life since he had hooked up with the Ducks – that fateful day when Charlie had taught him to skate – he had not wanted to put on his blades and sail across the ice. The feel of his stick in his hands had not been brining him happiness, it had been making him sick.

It was all Rachel needed to hear to know that he had made the right decision. "So they let you out of your contract, huh?"

He shrugged, dropping his head back on the couch. "Well, they're having so many problems with everyone else, I think they were happy to have one less person to worry about. I just can't play for anyone else until the end of the season, and then I'll go free-agent." He looked over at her a new light in his eyes. "But I've got a few other ideas of what I'd like to do."

She rose up on her knees, kissing him gently and then resting her head on his shoulder. "Whatever makes you happy, Fulton."

* * *

"Being a woman sucks!" Beau was holding her mother's hand, breathing through a particularly painful contraction. She had been in labor for almost two hours now and both the doctors and the nurses seemed surprised with how close together the contractions were already getting. 

Devin was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, alternating between looking at her green-faced and playing video games on her cell phone. No sooner was she thinking of telling him to take a hike (which he would consider a reprieve from having to watch her do the Lamaze breathing) then Charlie came racing through the door looking like a madman.

"What did I miss?" He was wearing jeans and Pumas and he still wore the tight athletic shirt that all of the Red Wings wore under their pads. He had hastily thrown on a blazer over top and being Charlie, the look worked. His hair was sticking out wildly and his eyes were huge, darting around the room. He finally focused on Beau and felt everything in him still. Even in the midst of such a life altering moment, just her being there set his world right.

He was ignoring, of course, the fact that she was glaring at him. "What are **you** doing here?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets and scoffed. "Uh, the mother of my unborn children is getting ready to give birth. I thought maybe it might be an important moment."

Now she was glaring at Devin who seemed to have shrunk down into the size of a fourteen year old girl. "What about your game?"

He walked over to her but resisted taking a hand because they were both balled into fists. "Game, schmame. I wouldn't miss this for anything." He looked at Devin, getting the impression that the kid was terrified of Beau and having no idea why. He had gotten the phone call ten minutes before he was supposed to hit the ice and had dropped everything to rush to the hospital. Family was more important than work or any sport. He leaned over, kissing her forehead and Aggie stepped back and moved to leave the room. She grabbed Devin's shirt as she sailed by him and drug him after her.

"C'mon kid. I suggest you get out of the line of fire."

Beau craned her neck to look over Charlie's shoulder to where her mother and Devin were sneaking out of the room. "I'll talk to you about this later, Devin Kellerman!" But she was smiling. The grin, though, faded when another contraction hit. She doubled over, moaning. Somehow, in the midst of the pain she found the energy to grasp Charlie's hand in a bone-crushing grip and glare up at him. "**You** did this to me, Conway."

Charlie couldn't help but laugh.

**

* * *

**

**Author Note: I've got compnay coming for a little over a week, so I doubt there will be any updates. Just didn't want anything to think that I had abandoned Charlie, Beau, Guy and the others! See you soon! **

**AdoptedThug**: Thank for the compliment. I'm particularly fond of that chapter, so it meant a lot.

**Duckys**: I like happy Devin. Expect to see more of it!

**Joank**: I can't leave Guy unhappy forever, but I'm not sure how it will resolve. What do you think about a possible Cole/Julie paring. I'm totally not sure. Any other suggestions for him? He's so elusive in my brain right now!

**antiIrony**: Thank you for the thank you! It absolutely made my day and doing all of this totally worth it. I always look forward to your faithful reviews.

**Johnny**: Glad to hear I keep you on the edge of your seat.

**Hockey-girl90**: Don't worry. I won't totally ruin Guy's life.

**Duckfluff**: interesting take on the Cole/Beau thing. I could never have her leave Charlie but that would have been interesting back in the other story. Look at your mind go!

**Paula**: Thanks. I taught 8th grade for a year right after I graduated and I actually had a kid do this to me. No kidding. It was the worst few days of my life. I didn't have to take a leave of absence, etc. but the rest is right out of my life. He eventually got expelled. Sheesh.

**Roxxy1984**: No apologies needed. Glad to have you here now! Thanks!


	12. Weird, but Wonderful

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Devin felt like he was intruding. He peeked his head in the door and was taken by the picture they made. Beau looked beautiful. Most women would have hated her for it. She had just gone through sixteen hours of labor and with only an hour of recuperation under her belt she looked refreshed, awake, and glowing. She was sitting up in her hospital bed, hair pulled up in the front with clips, and smiling down at the baby she held in her arms. Beaming was probably the more appropriate word, Devin thought, as he noted the absolutely unconditional love apparent in her eyes.

Charlie sat on the edge of the bed, his hip balanced on the mattress, but it was clear he was trying not to disturb Beau too much. He was also holding a baby but the look in his eyes was one of pure wonder. He shifted his gaze to Beau, his voice soft. "Are you sure I'm doing this right?" He nodded down at the way he held his arms awkwardly.

She tore her eyes away from the bundle in her arms and smiled up at him warmly. She slid a hand up to rest on his elbow and then to gently touch the baby he held in his arms. "You're doing it perfectly."

Devin was sure that he had never heard Charlie speak so softly or with such raw emotion. "I don't want to hurt her."

Beau smiled again and touched a curl over her husband's ear. "You won't."

They were the perfect family. A mother, a father, and two tiny little six pound healthy babies. Devin couldn't shake the nagging thought that he would be intruding. A sixteen-year-old to parents who were only twenty-five and twenty-seven. It had been a few weeks since he had felt the burden that he was on them, but the scene he was walking in on now had it rushing back into his head.

He had not told Beau or Charlie how he felt, not since he had very first come to live with them a few weeks prior, but he still felt that way. Like he had intruded on their perfect life. A couple as young as they were should be able to focus all of their attention on their babies - not a teenager. He knew if he said these things to Beau she would smack him in the head…literally. It was as he had that thought that his foot scraped across the floor and Beau looked up at him. He gave an awkward half wave and started to back out. He didn't want to ruin the moment.

The smile on her face grew even wider and Devin felt his doubts slipping away. "Devin." It was that simple. Just his name. The love he heard in that one word had him slipping slowly into the private room.

She hadn't seen him since giving birth and Beau wondered at the way her heart filled when she saw him. _What a weird little family we are_, she thought. _Weird, but wonderful_.

Hearing the name Charlie stood up gingerly and grinned across the room. He beckoned with one hand. "Hey, man. Come meet your brother and sister."

* * *

Guy had just gotten two phone calls in the span of ten minutes. One had him grinning like an idiot and the other had his world falling out from under him.

First Devin had called to say that Beau had finally had the babies and that mother and children were doing well. He couldn't believe it. His two best friends in the entire world were parents of not one but two babies…and a sixteen-year-old. _How on earth had all of that happened?_ He had laughed out loud imagining Charlie pulling his hair out as twin toddlers ran in opposite directions. He pictured Beau sitting on the couch watching it all happen and laughing.

And then, just ten minutes later, every high he felt for his friends slammed into a low. For the past two weeks he had endured his forced leave of absence through clenched teeth and not a word of protest. He had attended three separate meetings with his principal, his colleagues (who were all supportive – they too had had their problems with Mario), and with Mario's mother who became more incendiary by the moment, making things up as she went. Guy had found it hard to believe his ears, and he had assumed that Dr. Fouts would feel the same way. Turns out, based on the phone call he had just received, that he had been wrong.

Guy sat down hard on his back stoop and dropped his head between his legs, forcibly reminding himself to breath. His voice sounded foreign in his own head. "Can you say that again?"

There was a very long pause in which he heard his boss sigh. "Mr. Germaine, Guy…" he drew out the word and Guy felt a little sick at the idea of the man using his first name. _He never does that with teachers. _"After everything that happened with Mario Hunter, we feel obligated to ask you to resign from your position at this school."

Guy swallowed, his tongue feeling thick in his dry mouth. "Obligated." He stated the word quietly, trying to understand.

Fouts sighed again and Guy was shocked by the urge to reach through the phone and strangle him. "We take accusations of racism very seriously here and it would set a bad example to just brush this one off."

Guy had the sensation of his brain very slowly trying to wrap itself around the concept. He focused in on one word. "We?"

"Me and the school board," Fouts amended.

Now Guy was laughing. He couldn't believe that he was, but the sound was coming out of his mouth as sure as the sun was sinking behind the horizon. "I can't believe this. You know that I don't have a racist bone in my body. You're scared of that woman and her husband and you and the school board are too chickenshit to do anything about it." The words sounded like they were coming from someone else. Guy never cussed. He never would have dreamed of doing it in front of his boss. Now it seemed nothing less than appropriate.

His boss – former boss – clucked his tongue. "Mr. Germaine, losing your temper will not make this situation any better." He waited a beat before continuing. "Now we are giving you the option to resign. That means there will only be a minor note of this in your personnel file. We will still give you a strong reference when you apply for other jobs."

Able to breath again, Guy was pacing his backyard, one hand shoved so violently in the pocket of his khaki pants that he thought he might have ripped the lining. "Other jobs." He scoffed. "I don't want **other** jobs, Dr. Fouts. I **love** that school. I've made a place there. I'm affecting change there."

"You can do those things elsewhere, Mr. Germaine."

Suddenly, from head to toe, Guy felt a rush of calm settle over him. He stopped his frantic pacing and took a long slow breath. Guy Germaine always did the right thing. He was a good person with morals and a sense of self. He always had been. _Why should this be different?_ He knew exactly what he had to do. "I will **not** resign and make it look as if I am admitting to having done anything wrong. I am a **good** teacher and a **good** person and you and Mrs. Hunter and her son cannot change that."

Fouts' voice dropped a notch. "You'll be fired and your employment record will show that it was done so because of racism. You **can't** want that. Don't make this harder on yourself than it has to be, son."

"I'm not." And then he had hung up, rethinking every word he had said and knowing, still, that he had done the right thing.

_

* * *

Come meet your brother and sister. The way that Charlie had said it had been so simple and so without pretense that Devin's feet were moving across the room before he could think of a way to slip out and let them be a family alone. __My brother and sister._ He marveled at the idea of it. He was a big brother – if not by blood then by circumstance. _If Charlie and Beau can feel that way, why can't I?_. The way that Charlie had said it had been so simple and so without pretense that Devin's feet were moving across the room before he could think of a way to slip out and let them be a family alone. He marveled at the idea of it. He was a big brother – if not by blood then by circumstance. 

And then he was standing by the bed and everything but pure and simple love slid out of his mind. They were perfect. Two perfect tiny little bodies sleeping peacefully in their parents' arms. He was closest to Charlie and his eyes were locked on the little girl that he held. Her body was mostly obscured by a pink blanket but her head was covered in thick black hair in kinky little curls. He smiled at her and looked up at Charlie and Beau. "She has hair like both of you."

Charlie reached up to ruffle his own messy mop. "Poor kid." He angled her up so that Devin could see the miniature hand grasping the edge of the blanket. "Riley Isabella Nora Conway, meet your big brother Devin."

It took him a moment to register his mother's name but when he did he smiled with open emotion. Beau looked up and softly touched his hand. "If you'd rather we didn't use your mom's name that is completely understandable. You might want to use it yourself one day." Devin reached out and ran his finger ever so gently across her knuckles. "No, it's perfect." In her sleep Riley opened her palm and grabbed a hold of his pinky. Devin laughed out loud and then his eyes shot up to meet Charlie's. "Whoa. Who knew that a baby's grip could be that strong?"

Charlie grinned with apparent pride. "She'll be a good puck handler, huh?"

Devin grinned back. "Which one of us gets to teach her the triple deke?"

"Boys." Beau sent a tone of mock scolding through her voice. "Why don't you wait until she can walk before you start forcing a stick and skates at her?" She very carefully reached out her arms towards Devin, a little blue bundle aimed in his direction. "My arms are tired, kiddo. Why don't you hold him?"

Devin had never held a baby before and he felt ridiculously nervous now. "What do I do?"

Beau smiled. "You hold him however is comfortable. Just make sure you keep his head up. His little neck isn't strong enough yet."

Charlie nudged him with his foot. "Not dropping him on the floor would be good, too."

Devin rolled his eyes. "Nice. Thanks." He reached out tentatively and was struck by the warmth emanating from the blanket. He took what seemed like a long time to get his hands under and around Beau's and then carefully pulled the little boy tight against his chest. He stared down into a small sleeping face. "What's his name?"

Beau's voice was soft. "Chase Parker Archie Conway."

Devin looked up at them, his eyes holding a light sheen. "My Dad would love that, you know." Beau only nodded. He looked back down at the baby's face, trying to decide who he looked more like. Suddenly Chase's thin eyelids fluttered open and he squinted, turning his head full of black hair back and forth, trying to adjust to the bright florescent lights. Devin sucked in his breath watching him and at the sound Chase's fuzzy vision focused squarely on Devin's face. The two held each other's eyes for a long moment.

Devin reached out a very gentle finger and ran it along his little brother's nose. He spoke to Beau but his eyes remained locked on the small body that he held. "He's got blue eyes like Charlie."

She chuckled. "Oh no. All babies are born with blue eyes. We can certainly hope he keeps them, though." She looked up into Charlie's blue eyes and then over at Devin, who while not related, had uncannily similar ones.

Devin looked up then, a smile playing on his lips. "I think they'll definitely stay blue."

**

* * *

**

Author Note: So, my week of company turned into almost two weeks and now I'm headed off to a conference for work for a week. Sigh. Hopefully this update will keep you occupied for a few minutes and then hopefully next week I'll be back writing in earnest. I miss Beau and Charlie and Devin and the rest!

**Roxxy1984**: Hmm. I've thought about godparents, but I'm not sure what I'm going to do about it. We'll see…

**Sinbin05**: There you go…babies and more Devin depth!

**AdoptedThug**: I'm glad you like Kimball/Adam. I need to get back to them soon here!

**antiIrony**: I'm glad that I was missed. I'm sorry for the forthcoming long delay again!

**Duckys**: I don't know. Just seemed like Charlie wouldn't miss it for the world, you know? I think they could have threatened to throw him off the team and he still would have gone.

**Katie**: I'm totally flattered. THANK YOU.

**Hockey-girl90**: I've got my eyes on something big upcoming for Guy. Keep your eyes peeled!

**Johnny**: Thanks for the faithfulness.

**Tam**: Yay for older brothers. Mine is the greatest so I kind of see Devin acting like him.

**Joank**: See what I said to Hockey-girl. I think you'll enjoy what's coming as well.

**Duckfluff**: Fear not. I can say with absolute certainty that NOTHING will make Beau leave Charlie.

**Flyinghawk**: Glad to see you. Small world, huh?

**Casny**: THANKS!

**Philyra**: Hmmm. I'm working on Cole and I think I've got something. He's been eluding me recently. Don't know why. Keep an eye out for him soon.


	13. Speak for Yourself

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"Whoa. Nice flowers." Adam had just trudged through the front door and dropped every single one of his bags right in the middle of the living room floor. He was leaning over the counter and digging through the bouquet when Kimball padded across the carpet and stared down at his things, her hands on her hips. 

She bit back a comment about growing up in barns and a pigsty when she glanced up and saw him staring at her with wide eyes. She narrowed her own. "What?"

He walked over and pulled her against him roughly. Adam was still getting used to the idea of a woman living in his apartment and while they had begun the arrangement for security, he was beginning to like the feeling of coming home from a long trip to find her amidst his things. She had walked in wearing cotton track pants and a t-shirt, her thick hair pulled up into a massive pony-tail, and not an ounce of make-up on her face. The sight of her had hit him like a thick ball of lust racing through his body.

Leaning down he kissed her thoroughly and when he was quite sure that he had gotten his fill – at least for the moment – he pulled away and stared down at her blank expression.

Kimball had to forcibly remind herself to pull in a gulp of air. Adam had literally taken her breath away with his kiss. Linking her hands behind his waist she tilted her head back to look the short distance up into his eyes. "What was that for?"

He didn't say anything for a very long time and Kimball felt unease coiling tightly in her stomach. Finally, with a deep breath and the frown lines on his forehead easing Adam bent down and kissed her again, this time so gently it almost brought tears to her eyes.

"Kimball, I want you to move in with me."

Laughing a little, feeling the disquiet recede, she glanced around the room. "Adam, I'm **already** moved in with you."

He shook his head and turned to pace between the armchair and the couch. "No, you've living here out of a suitcase. I want you to move **in** with me. As in combine our stuff." He stepped closer again and brushed his thumb across her cheek. "I love you and I love you being here. I want you to be here all the time." He bent down, his voice almost a whisper. "Please move in with me."

Kimball's cheeks immediately flushed pink and she bit her lip. She stared at him and Adam was now the one feeling his stomach tighten. "Really?"

He nudged her chin gently with a balled up fist. "Really." He said it definitively, holding his breath for an answer.

He got it in the form of Kimball launching herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing his mouth loudly. "Of course!" She kissed him again and then laughed as he hefted her up higher and she tightened her arms around his neck. He began carrying her towards the kitchen, the idea of a celebratory glass of wine in his mind. "I love you, Adam."

He grinned, setting her on the island. After another resounding kiss she released him and Adam nodded his head at the tulips as he reached for wine glasses. "Well, if we're going to be living in sin together, don't you think I deserve to know who's sending you flowers?"

Screwing up her face, Kimball looked at him. "I thought you did."

Adam stopped what he was doing and walked over, laying a hand on her knee. "I hate to admit it, but it wasn't me. There wasn't a card?"

Kimball shook her head, and as Adam began digging through the stems she felt the apprehension spreading through her body. She realized she was holding her breath when he found a tiny white envelope hidden deep within the stems. She spoke, but her mouth was dry and her voice sounded foreign in her own ears. "I guess it fell down in there during delivery."

Adam looked up, his face a little pale. "Yeah, I guess." He looked her in the eye. "Who else would be sending you flowers, Red?"

She knew that she should be thinking hard, trying to come up with an explanation, but she couldn't seem to get her thoughts moving. In the silence, Adam held out the card to her, obviously indicating that she should open it. Unnerved by the simple paper, Kimball felt goose bumps spring to her arms and she slid unconsciously back an inch on the marble counter top. She shook her head.

Adam looked down at the envelope for what seemed like forever. Finally, with one quick movement he ripped it open and pulled out the tiny piece of construction paper littered with extremely small cut out letters. Kimball was vaguely aware of Adam sucking his breath in sharply. After another long moment, he slowly turned the paper around so that she could read it.

_Kimball,_

_Your boyfriend can't keep you safe. Nothing can._

* * *

"God, when did they get to be two months old?" 

Beau smiled over at Chase where he lay in her friend's arms. "I know, it's crazy. I feel like they were born yesterday."

Elaine Smith, varsity player Kennedy's mother, cooed down at the baby she was holding and then glared in Beau's direction. "You don't **look** like they were born yesterday." She sighed. "Bitch." She said it with a smile and Beau laughed. Elaine looked up quickly, her bottom lip held between her teeth. She watched as her son stole the puck and then sent it sailing into the goal at the buzzer. "Way to go, Kennedy!" The Farmington Hills Devils had just won three to two.

Twenty minutes later the two women were standing by the doors to the locker room, husbands in tow, and several other sets of parents milling around them. It was team tradition that family and friends greeted the players on their departure regardless of the outcome of the game.

Elaine's husband Jeff shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to Charlie. "I'm surprised you're here. No late season practice or anything?"

Charlie shrugged while Beau did a mental eye roll and then smiled. "Nah. Getting to come to these games now is probably one of the few benefits of not even making it to the play-offs this year."

Jeff grimaced. "Sorry, man. I forgot. At least you're looking at the bright side of things."

"Yeah, Charlie's a real glass is half full kind of guy." Beau laughed a little and bent down to open up the cover on the twins' stroller and make sure their blankets were tight around them. It was cool but not frigid and she wanted to make sure they were staying warm. She laid a finger against Riley's cheek and smiled when she felt it smooth and warm.

"I can't believe you have those babies out in this weather." When Beau heard the voice behind her she steeled herself not to turn around with a particularly rude finger raised. "Or at a hockey game at two weeks old, for that matter. It's just ridiculous."

Christy Bland was self-proclaimed team mother of the Farmington Devils, but Beau had it on good authority that the boys on the team spent more time at both her house and the Smiths'. She always tried her hardest to like people unless they gave her a reason not to, but Christy had most certainly given her a reason.

Shortly after Devin's arrival at the school and his appointment to the Varsity team, Christy's son Jared had been benched and Devin given his spot. It had more to do with Jared's attitude towards his teammates – he treated them like dirt – than it did Devin's playing ability, but it turned out Devin was just a better skater. Shortly thereafter there had been question drawn to Devin's academics and Beau and Charlie had been called in to examine his records from his previous school in a meeting with the coach, principal, and a guidance counselor.

Devin was a determined student and while no boy genius, his grades were good. Beau had been outraged, angry that Devin had been questioned just because of an anonymous 'tip.' It had gotten back to her later, via the coach, that Christy Bland was behind it. She had been hoping that Devin would give her a reason to get him kicked off the team.

Slapping a sweet smile on her face, Beau turned around, crossing her arms over her chest, determined to be civil. "Thanks for the concern for Chase and Riley, Christy – they're two months by the way – but I've just checked them and they are fine. Nice and warm."

She felt Charlie step up behind her and dropped her hand to cover his when it was now resting on her hip. She had a feeling that if Christy said much else, it was going to take some serious getting in Charlie's face to stop him from saying anything regrettable.

Christy shot a glance at her husband and snickered. "Maybe, but still…" she looked around at other parents apparently seeking support and, Beau noticed, getting none. "Babies are sensitive. I can't imagine what the yelling and buzzers do to their poor little ears." She seemed agitated when she got no response from Beau and blundered on. "It's not as if there's a reason for them to be there."

Beau felt Charlie open his mouth and patted his hand lightly, silencing him. "I wouldn't say there's no reason. We're here as a family to support their brother. We think it's important to start those traditions early. It may not matter to them to be there now, but it's nice for Devin." She raised and eyebrow. "Besides, we spoke to our pediatrician and he didn't seem to think the noise was a problem at all. If Charlie had games right now we'd be at those as well."

Christy mocked bewilderment and Beau had a moment to think how blown away she was by the conversation. _What kind of woman says things like this?_

"To see their **brother** play? I wasn't aware that they had a brother."

Behind Beau and Charlie the locker room door opened and the players started filing out. Usually there would have been applause and cheers but today it was silent and the boys found their parents, confusion evident on their faces. Beau didn't even hear them exit, the ringing in her ears threatening to send her over the edge. With great difficulty, she kept her tone soft, the warning plain in her eyes. "Don't go there, Christy."

Christy dropped her voice to the same level and glared. "He's **not** your son." She gestured around to the other families and no one noticed that Devin had frozen just outside the door, his hand stopped as he ran it through his wet hair. "We didn't need another player on this team and we certainly didn't need you and your famous husband coming in and garnering so much attention. 'Charlie Conway this' and 'Charlie Conway that.' It's all I ever hear at my house." Beside her, Jared flushed red.

Jeff Smith wrapped his arms around Kennedy on one side of him and Elaine on the other. "Speak for yourself, Christy."

Again, Beau found herself amazed that a forty-year-old woman was behaving this way. It didn't, however, stop her from saying exactly what she thought in response. Christy Bland had gone just one step too far. She stepped forward. "My 'famous' husband and I haven't done anything but make friends and support this team. If your son came home talking about him that is no fault of ours." She took another step, pointing her finger and lowering her voice. "As for Devin, you're right. He's not our son."

In the corner, Devin's face fell and he felt his heart stop, but he forced himself to continue listening.

"But how dare you drag him into your insecurities. This is the second time and hear me now when I say that it will be the last." She narrowed her eyes. "That boy has faced tragedies that you cannot even imagine and he's stuck with us whether he likes it or not." She glanced over at him, a reassuring smile on her face that he returned as his heart began beating again. "Charlie and I consider ourselves blessed to have him in our lives and while he may not be our son, we love him like one. He is a brother to Chase and Riley in every important sense of the word." She thought very briefly of Casey Conway. "Blood means very little in this family."

Christy opened her mouth to say something but Beau held up a hand to stop her. "He's a Conway." She said it simply and then smiled brilliantly, turning to hold out a hand to Devin. "Let's go, kiddo. We're leaving."

Devin stared at her, open mouthed, and with a small shove from Brady he stepped forward to lace his fingers with hers. Charlie wheeled the stroller around and Beau reached up to lock her arm in his as the three of them strode across the parking lot.

* * *

"My concern, Miss McGillicuddy, is that his notes have become increasingly threatening." Detective Davis tapped his pen on his lip. "Are you absolutely sure that you can think of no one that would want to harm you?" 

She sighed loudly, wringing her hands in her lap. "I'm sure. I really am."

Adam, who was becoming frustrated with the whole process, rolled his eyes. "It could be any of the people that watch the ten o'clock news. You really haven't been able to get a finger print or a hair or anything?"

Davis shook his head. "I'm afraid not. He seems to be quite careful." He looked down at his file. "We've spent all morning at the flower delivery shop trying to get details on who ordered the arrangement sent to your condo, Mr. Banks, but I'm afraid there's just nothing."

Kimball was very quite and, Adam noticed, more pale than usual. He reached out and laid his hand atop hers. "What do you recommend we do in the meantime? I don't like the idea of just waiting for this psycho to show himself."

"Nor do I." The detective flattened his palms on the desk. "But I'm not sure what our other options are at this point. I think you just need to continue with what you've been doing. Miss McGillicuddy shouldn't be alone. The private security is a good idea. I wish I had a better answer for you, ma'am." He looked imploringly at Kimball and she felt a brief pang of sympathy for him. He was, after all, doing his job. She smiled slightly.

"Thank you."

What none of them knew, though, was that the waiting game was about to end.

* * *

**Joank**: Thanks. Devin has turned into SO much more than I originally anticipated. I really love writing him. 

**Duckys**: I don't know about lawyers. We'll see. I have an idea for Guy though. I think you'll see it in the next chapter.

**Duckfluff**: I'm glad you liked the names. I'm a big fan of Chase (never known one that wasn't adorable). The company was fun and the trip was good. Gotta love New Orleans!

**Philyra**: Yeah, I've been missing Cole. I'm trying to work this idea out because I don't want it to be weak, but I'm thinking I'll try to get it started in the next chapter as well. I miss his wit!

**antiIrony**: And yay for your reviews! So faithful! Sorry about all the absences. They are actually making it really hard to write. This chapter is total crap in my opinion (I'm not fishing for compliments, really). I just am having trouble getting back into it!

**Casnyl21**: Done.

**AdoptedThug**: Glad you enjoyed!

**Cc**: I'm sorry that things have been rough. I hope that all is well.

**Johnny**: Nope. Didn't forget abut you. Like I said, company and then travel.

**Hockey-girl90**: Thanks!

**Roxxy1984**: It's so nice to be missed! Thanks!


	14. You're Wrong

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Cole would never tell anyone, except maybe Beau, how much he hated flying. Actually, he probably wouldn't even tell Beau. How did you say to someone, "I just think the idea of a huge metal germ box hurtling through the air is a little unnerving" and still manage to maintain a semblance of your manhood? You didn't. That was all there was to it. 

Probably not good thoughts to be thinking as you are flying to Michigan in said huge metal germ box, but Cole was having them anyway. Somewhere a few rows behind him, near the back of first class, a man emitted a wet cough and it was all Cole could do not to gag. He was envisioning huge germ particles flying through the circulated air (thanks "Outbreak") and it was almost sixty seconds before he realized he was holding his breath. Sighing, he rolled his eyes. "Gross."

"Who'd have thought that a big hockey player was scared of a few germs?" The statement was uttered in a soft voice from the row behind him and Cole chose to ignore it. People said things all the time to him and he wasn't in the mood to engage a strange man on the plane in a discussion. "Shouldn't jocks be tougher? It's not very sexy if you ask me." Cole balled is fists at the comment, but couldn't get too angry considering he'd just been thinking the same thing himself. However, he wasn't about to let the guy keep badmouthing him. Rising slightly from his seat he turned around halfway and laid his eyes on the man behind the voice.

"I'm fully aware," he said, smile on his face, "that being grossed out by the wet-cougher back there is not particularly sexy. And not that I'm being rude or looking down on your lifestyle at all, but," Cole slid a sickeningly sweet smile onto his face and shrugged. "I don't actually **care** if you find me sexy."

The man was sitting down so it was hard to tell his height, but he was slim and had perfectly combed dark brown hair. He was wearing a slick gray suit with a deep blue shirt and some sort of matching tie…and he was smiling. Laughing actually. _Okay, my friends laugh at me a lot but this is a stranger. A stranger who just called me totally not sexy. This is, for lack of a better word strange._ He glared a little. "I'm glad you're finding this so amusing."

The laugher finally managed to contain himself, although there was still quite a bit of humor lingering in his soft voice. "I'm not the one that said you weren't sexy. **She** did." He pointed to the person sitting in the isle seat and for the first time Cole noticed the extremely attractive woman sitting there. _Huh. It's not like me to miss an attractive woman. Maybe it was the being mocked that did it._

Cole furrowed his brow, confused. "**She** said it." It was a statement, not a question. She smiled at him and nodded, one eyebrow quirked up in what Cole perceived to be a challenge. _Well, I'm all for a challenge._ He looked back to the man. "It sounded like you."

"Well, I suppose that **technically** it was me."

And that was when Cole finally fully joined the reality of the situation and noticed that the man was holding his hands in front of his chest, his fingers flying with every word that was spoken. Realization dawned and he opened his mouth wide, getting ready to say something and totally unsure what it should be.

Opening her eyes wide in mock recognition the woman pantomimed clapping. She made a quick movement with her hands and the man spoke.

"Good job. You're a real genius, huh?"

Most people would have taken offense at the brazen statement, but Cole, easy-going guy that he was, just nodded. "Hey. I'm sitting here, back turned, and get insulted by a male voice. I turn around and assume that the male is the one speaking. I'd say that's a pretty fair assumption."

He watched in fascination as the man's hands flew through the words with the woman's eyes focused on them. When he finished she looked up at Cole, smiled, and inclined her head a fraction, clearly conceding to his point. She started signing again.

"Clearly you've figured out that I'm deaf. This is my translator Rick Davidson."

Cole stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you Rick. I'm glad to know that it wasn't you degrading my sexiness. I'm Cole, by the way."

Rick laughed, shaking the offered hand and then signed as he spoke. "The embarrassment is all mine," and he rolled his eyes, throwing a light elbow into the woman's side. She elbowed him back and Cole couldn't quite stop his own eye roll.

"I bet she gets you into those kinds of situations all the time."

Rick nodded solemnly. "How did you know?"

Cole quirked his brow and threw her a half smile. "I know the type." He couldn't help thinking of Beau and the many many conversations in which she made him look like an idiot.

She was signing again.

"I'm Darby O'Connor, in case you care." She held out her hand, waving him off when he opened his mouth to say his full name. "I know who you are, Cole Procida. I'm quite the Toronto fan, actually. And I seriously doubt you know anything about **my** type." She crossed her arms over her chest when she finished and threw his look right back at him.

_A challenge indeed_, Cole thought. It was a bit strange getting used to the rhythm of talking to her through Rick, but her facial expressions were so vivid that he found himself quickly looking right at her and not relying on watching Rick as he translated.

He had his arms propped on the back of his seat now, interested enough to keep up the conversation. "Oh, I bet I do."

She gave him a blank stare. "Try me." She was gorgeous – shoulder length jet black hair hanging around her neck with tiny pieces pulled up in the front with pins. She was wearing a black on black pin-striped suit that was so well tailored that even sitting down Cole could see her every curve. _And what nice curves they are._ And her eyes, _oh man her eyes_. Cole was a huge sucker for great eyes and Darby O'Connor certainly had them – brilliant aqua blue with long thick lashes framing them. He'd gladly give away his every penny if he was wrong in the hypothesis that every drop of her blood ran green with her Irish heritage.

Clearing his through he squinted at her as if trying to gain some insight. He looked her up and down knowing that it was driving her crazy. When she glared at him, he let his gaze travel down her body again, just to be a pain in the ass. _I am such a male chauvinist._ Cole grinned wickedly at the thought and Darby narrowed her eyes even further. She cleared her throat and made a quick hand gesture.

"Well?"

Cole looked up to the ceiling, feigning boredom. "You're Irish, that's clear enough, so I'd say you're both stubborn and very passionate about the things you love."

She interrupted, looking indignant, her blue eyes flashing. "That's a gross generalization. Why don't you just call me a drunk too? Or a potato farmer."

Cole waggled a finger, figuring he was on his way to thoroughly infuriating her. "Hush." He looked at her, pursing his lips when she started to move her hands. "Are you going to let me finish or not?"

She glanced at Rick and then nodded at him, looking self-righteous.

"Good." He looked her up and down once more, delighting in the little squirm she gave. "I'd say from the suit," he indicated Rick. "And Rick's here, that you are in some sort of power profession. I'd imagine that suits you just fine because you are clearly a woman who wants what she wants and who **gets** what she wants. You're not easily intimidated and," he paused for quite a long time, thinking if he should say the next thing, realizing somewhere in the very back of his brain that he was also describing Beau. "But you are easily intrigued. I'd guess that my oh-so-on-point assessment of you has you intrigued." He winked at her, turning on every bit of the charm. "But it's also probably pissed you off because you don't like people being able to read you. That's part of your stubborn side." Cold stopped, feeling rather pleased with himself and smiled at the stunned look on her face.

_Guess I got it right._ Feeling a little bit of guilt for pegging Darby so efficiently, he decided to throw her a bone. "And I'm guessing you also enjoy your fair share of witty banter." He raised his hand, wiggling one finger in an inviting gesture. "So let's go. Banter."

* * *

"I'm really sorry I can't be there, Beau. I just can't swing the time or the expense right now." 

"Oh please. Shut up." Beau scoffed into the phone as she balanced a fussing Chase on her hip and laughed when he tugged at a piece of her hair that had fallen out of the pony-tail. "It's not like it's a huge party or anything, Guy. It's a birthday dinner and we're just having a few people hang out. Really it's more a chance for people to meet the babies and for Devin to get some more time with the people we consider our extended family. I think we'll be plenty busy just with Cole and Banks." She sighed. "I just wish I could be there for you, you know?"

Guy stretched out on his bed, scoffing himself. "You shut up. I would never ask you to travel with the babies. What a nightmare that would be. But I appreciate the concern."

Beau paced back and forth, her brow furrowing. "Well I'm plenty concerned. You know this is ludicrous, right?"

"Oh, that fact has most certainly not escaped me. Being tossed out of your job on your butt can really make things clear."

"So who all is coming?" Beau felt a huge ball in the pit of stomach. Even though she knew that it wasn't practical for her and Charlie to go, she still felt like the worst friend on the planet. Guy would drop everything and race across the world for her and she was sitting in her house making excuses. _Well that's going to change._

Sitting up, Guy couldn't help but glance at the framed photo on his dresser. "Averman, Goldberg, Jesse, Cole and Banks are coming down after they leave your place; Russ is hoping his understudy will be ready to take over for him for a couple of performances. Also I heard a rumor that Riley and Dave Lawrence were headed into town."

Beau laughed a little. "Whoa. Blast from the past, huh? How are they?"

Now it was Guy who laughed. "Surprisingly good. Both coaching little league teams. How funny is that?"

She ignored the statement, her eyes filling slightly. "I love you, Guy. You know that, right?"

He smiled, wishing she would quit beating herself up. He understood. "Of course I do."

_

* * *

Your mouth is hanging open._ Darby's brain was certainly doing its part to help her stop gaping, but still she sat there staring at Cole Procida with his unruly hair and blue eyes. She had seen him on television of course, but having him a mere two feet in front of you was something else all together.

And what was worse was that he had been right – to the letter. She hated people being able to read her and he was the first who had been able to in a long time. _Probably from all the women he practices on_, the cynical part of her brain chimed in. Right before the practical side reminded her again that her mouth was still hanging open.

Finally she closed her mouth and summoned a placid smile from somewhere down deep. Her hands started to move.

"Well done. You think you've got me pretty figured out." She sweetened the smile. "My turn."

Cole waved his hand in a sweeping gesture. "Go ahead."

She imitated his previous action and slowly looked him up and down. She couldn't hear it, but she saw the laugh lines crease his cheeks and deepen his dimples. "You're self-assured and easy going and you could care less what people think about you. You like your life, your money, and my guess would be most especially the women that the former two bring you. You're a jock through and through, but not a dumb one. But you don't mind playing up that stereo-type if it gets you what you want."

She stopped, smiling, but the expression froze on her face when she saw the way that Cole was staring back at her. The light had left his eyes and he looked hurt. After a long moment of silence he finally spoke. "You're right about not caring about what people think about me – especially what you think about me - and liking my life. But as for the money and the stereo-type…" he looked down and away. "You're wrong. I'm sorry if I've bothered you Miss O'Connor." And with that he turned around and took his seat.

Cole felt his heart racing. _Is that how people see me?_ Reporters and people had said things to him before about his growing fortune and the fact that people tended to think of hockey players as little more than Neanderthals, but he had always thought himself above those assumptions. He didn't think it was necessary to broadcast that he gave a great deal of money to the charity fund that several former Ducks had started, benefiting students interested in athletics in areas of the country that operated below the poverty line. He didn't need to tell them that Beau had gotten him addicted to books and now he read a little each night to clear his mind. Those were parts of him that he reserved for people close to him. Darby's frank analysis cut to the bone and Cole didn't like it. He usually didn't allow himself to be hurt.

He was still brooding on the subject when he felt a hand lightly touch his elbow from the isle side of his seat. He turned slowly, not surprised to see Darby's head close to his shoulder. She was biting her lip and the agitation was clearly etched across her face. He didn't expect her to speak out loud and when she did the words had a muted quality to them. They also, however, had a very sincere quality as well.

"I'm sorry."

She began signing and from behind him he heard the translator's voice, but it was the look on her face where Cole focused. "I was being glib and I was pigeonholing you and that was cruel of me. I was frustrated because you pegged me so well." She paused, sighing deeply. "No one ever does that. So I took it out on you by being rude. I really am sorry." She said the last sentence aloud again with the strange lilt in her voice.

Cole looked at her for a long moment and then finally spoke, a slow smile spreading lazily across his face. "Apology accepted. You were right when you said that I was a jock through and through, but I'm a good guy Darby." She nodded and he realized that she was not looking back at Rick. "You must read lips."

She nodded again, Rick speaking for her. "You're a pretty quick study, Cole. I really am sorry."

He waved it off, already forgetting the whole incident in the easy way that he had. "The past is the past. So tell me more about the supposedly so hard to peg Darby O'Connor."

**

* * *

Katie**: Happy late birthday! Glad I updated for the big event! Thanks, as always, for the compliments.

**AdoptedThug**: Glad you think things are coming together because my writing has felt disjointed of late. It feels better having pulled Cole in, though.

**Duckys**: Sometimes my brain doesn't work. Can you believe I didn't even realize you were talking about Bombay? Yikes! But you've given me a fabulous idea. Thanks!

**antiIrony**: The conference was good. Thanks for asking. I'm also glad to be back and I'm glad you hated Christy because I did to and she was modeled after someone I knew in high school. Bleck!

**Duckfluff**: I have a good friend who grew up in Farmington Hills so I like writing about the area. I don't know that I had an exact image of Christy in my mind, but I like the DH reference. I picture her being taller and more put together though. I don't know if we'll see more of her, but if we do I'll take your reference for inspiration. Thanks!

**Eixip**: Here's a little Cole for you. Hope you enjoy.

**Flyinghawk**: I'm so glad that everyone likes Devin so much. He is quite near and dear to my heart now so he appreciates the love!

**Johnny**: I don't think Christy will be an ongoing rival, but she will spur something emotional, so keep an eye out for that in the next chapter.

**Justafan**: Thanks for the diligent and long review! I didn't realize how much everyone would react to Christy Bland, but I'm glad you all have. As for your guess, I've not actually read that story (but now I want to!) and the Detective is, in fact, not the stalker. It's like Guess Who!

**Tragicallypicturesque**: I'm always amazed when someone starts with Everything's Eventual now and reads all 66 chapters and then reads this one too. I'm so flattered and SO glad that you enjoyed everything so much! Thanks for reading and reviewing. As for Guy and Connie, I'm not making any promises yet, but I DO promise not to leave Guy hanging. I love him too much for that!

**Enchantress**: Please read what I wrote to tragicallypicturesque. You guys rock for reading so many chapters! As for Cole, here is a whole chapter of almost exclusively him. Thanks for reviewing and I hope to see you again!


	15. Save Mr Germaine

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"He's good with them, huh?" Kimball tucked a leg under her body and propped an elbow on the arm of the couch as she smiled down at Devin and Cole where they were playing on a quilt with the babies. 

Beau watched for a minute in silence as Devin made a face and Riley let out a peal of laughter that filled the room. Charlie looked over from he was playing cards with Adam and smiled as well. Pulling her gaze away, Beau smiled at Kimball.

"He's **very** good with them. He offers to baby-sit all the time and Riley thinks he's the funniest thing in the world. But Chase is the best. He can be crying," she made a face indicating horrid pain, "I mean really screaming bloody murder. Devin walks in the room and says one word and the kid goes silent. I mean just stops and starts swiveling his head around the room looking for him." She heard a sound from the floor and glared when she saw Cole blowing wet raspberries on Chase's stomach. "Hey! No teaching him any of your bad habits, Procida, until he is at **least** five or six."

Cole looked up sheepishly but went right back to what he had been doing. Beau fell silent for another long moment, playing with the buttons on the front of her green cardigan. She looked up, focused on Kimball, frown lines creasing her face.

Kimball looked away from the babies, feeling the stare on her and smiled uncomfortably. Finally, Beau spoke.

"I'm sure you don't want to talk about this, Kimball, and that's totally understandable, but…" she trailed off, looking for the right words. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm really sorry about everything that is happening out in California."

They hadn't been around each other long enough to be close friends, but Adam and Charlie – and Adam and Beau for that matter - were close enough that the two women had made it a point to get to know each other. They emailed occasionally and mostly griped about the boys' idiosyncrasies. Despite that, Kimball didn't need further explanation to know that Beau was talking about her stalker. _I have a stalker, how weird is that? When did my life turn into this?_ She smiled grimly. "Thanks."

Beau reached out and touched her hand. "We're worried about you, you know?" She looked across the room and smiled fondly. "**Adam's** worried about you."

Kimball couldn't help but laugh, drawing Adam's attention. She smiled affectionately at him and indicated that he should go back to his game. "What was it that gave it away? The constant hovering or the refusal to let me out of his site?"

Now it was Beau who laughed. "It's sweet, isn't it?"

Kimball subconsciously touched her heart and grinned. "Yeah, it is."

* * *

"Happy Birthday to you!" The chorus ended and Beau's cheeks began fading of the pink they had turned while being serenaded by her close friends and family. 

"Thanks guys." She smiled after blowing out the candles on the cake that Charlie had made. Yes, **made**. "This looks good, Conway," she said, pointing at the cake that was **similar** in shape to a hockey skate.

He grimaced a little, tying on Riley's bib, and looked up sheepishly. "I had this grand thought that making it would be all sweet and endearing but then it came out of the oven and I've pretty much been wishing I had just bought a cake ever since." He glanced around the room. "My feelings won't be hurt if no one eats any."

Beau shooed him off. "It looks delicious."

"Cake or presents first?" Devin was holding a knife to cute the cake, but he was eyeing the large stack of presents on the sideboard.

Beau looked incredulous. "**Obviously** presents. What kind of teenager are you to ask such a question? Put down the knife and start handing me stuff!"

Devin obliged and stood before the pile for a brief second, deciding if he should give her his present first. He had been excited about it for days and had almost given it to her on three previous occasions. He heard Charlie clear his throat and looked over his shoulder. Charlie winked at him and nodded his head. He had been an important part of getting the present and if he thought now was the time to hand it over, then he was probably right.

With a deep sigh, Devin scratched his head and picked up the soft wrapped package. He turned around and laughed when Beau made an overly greedy face and rubbed her hands together. He passed the present to her, his voice light and easy. "This one is from me."

Beau perched her hip on the arm of the dining room chair and tucked her wildly curly hair behind her ears. Taking the package from him she shook it and squeezed it several times.

Charlie cleared his throat, rolling his eyes with great exaggeration. "She does this every time. It's the most annoying thing in the world. She holds the present for ten seconds and guesses what it is."

Cole nodded in agreement. "It **is** annoying. There's nothing less exciting than a gift that someone has already guessed." He leaned forward, pointing at his friend. "Hear that Beau? I'm not the only annoying one around here."

She grinned. "No, just the **most** annoying one."

He shrugged when Adam and Charlie concurred. "Fair enough."

Giving her attention back to the present she squeezed it one more time and then slid her finger under the crease at the back. She looked up at Devin who was watching her closely. "I won't guess since it's apparently such a pet peeve of these too." She waggled her free elbow at her husband and friend.

Adam raised his hand. "These **three**. Don't forget me. I think it's annoying too."

Kimball rolled her eyes. "You guys are ridiculous. I truly believe that if one of you jumped off a bridge the entire rest of the Duck and Pennington boys would follow."

They looked at her blandly. Adam smiled. "Probably. Is there something wrong with that?"

Charlie raised a fist in the air. "Solidarity, Banks."

This drew eye rolls and groans all around and Devin tapped his foot anxiously, feeling like he might burst. He finally couldn't take it anymore and smacked a hand down on the table. "Would you just open the damn present, Beau?"

She looked up at him, amused and a little confused. She tried to play matronly. "Language."

He sighed. "Sorry. Would you just open the **darn** present. Please?"

She patted his arm, laughing. "Sure." She finally tore into the brightly colored paper and when she had it all on the floor she smiled down at the t-shirt lying before her. It took her a moment to take it in, and she felt a lump form immediately in her throat.

The material was a soft pastel pink with darker pink trim around both the neck and sleeves. It was a classic woman's ringer t-shirt, save the screen print on the front. In the center there was a cloud of dust with a foot, hockey stick, and puck flying out. It read in simple black font… 'Don't mess with a hockey mom.' She looked at it for a very long moment and Devin was starting to wonder if he should explain why he had picked it out.

But then Beau hopped to her feet and held the shirt up against her chest, looking down at it, her voice sounding full of wonder. "Oh, Devin."

When the material came unfolded a piece of paper slid out and to the floor. With an amused expression Beau peered down at it and then bent slowly to pick it up. For some reason, Devin began to feel expressly foolish.

Beau couldn't quite believe what she was reading. Her voice was soft when she finally spoke, and she looked up at him with watery eyes. "Devin Alexander Kellerman-Conway?" She said it as a question, her eyes imploring.

The foolish feeling intensified until Devin felt the urge to just turn around and walk out of the room. But the way she was looking at him had him speaking, his voice husky with emotion. "You stood up for me." It was all he said and Beau continued to stare at him. The silence in the room was oppressive. "After the hockey game that day with Christy Bland," he looked up towards the ceiling. "And probably a million times before that. You stood up for me."

She shook her head, a tiny gesture, and soundlessly reached up to touch his cheek. When she spoke it was only Devin who could hear her. "I stood **beside** you, kiddo." A tear slid slowly down her face and she beamed up at him. Devin feared that if he didn't say something he would begin crying too.

"You made me yours and that was what I needed most. I will always have my mom and dad, but now I get another set of parents on top of that. Even though I call you Beau, you are in every sense of the word my mom." He smiled his mischievous smile and pointed at the shirt. "My **hockey** mom." He shrugged and Beau was struck by just how much he was beginning to behave like Charlie. "I thought it seemed right that I had your last name."

Tears now falling freely, Beau again glanced at Charlie and was rocked back to see that his blue eyes were also glistening in the dining room light. She mouthed an endearment at him, touching the place over her heart and then looked back at Devin. "It is absolutely the most perfect present you could have given me, Devin." She gave him a huge hug as Cole clapped a little.

"It's also the only gift she couldn't have guessed. Way to go, kid." Looking back, it was probably that statement that started the food fight with Charlie's not-so edible looking cake.

* * *

"The bottom line is that I believe it is important to stand up for what you believe in." Guy paused, shrugging almost imperceptibly. "And I believe that what has been done at this school is wrong. I care about my students and I'm not willing to just walk out the door without a fight." 

The woman standing next to him smiled warmly and looked over her shoulder at the huge group of people carrying signs and wearing matching t-shirts. She spoke directly into her microphone, staring back into the camera. "And I think it's pretty safe to say that Guy Germaine's students care about him too. Live from the Hennepin County school board offices, I'm Michelle Beach for NBC 10 news."

"We're out." The cameraman lowered the massive recorder from his shoulder and both he and Michelle shook Guy's hand. He turned around, starting at the people behind him, and felt goose bumps raise on his arm.

"Pretty crazy, huh?" Adam had stepped out of the crowd and he slid his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. "Would you have ever thought back on District 5 that we'd be standing here today doing something this important?" Guy was silent and Adam looked over at him, considering. "Actually, I think that we all probably knew **you'd** grow up to do something important." He nudged his friend.

It seemed to shake Guy out of his reverie and he smiled over at Adam, drawing his hand out of his own pocket and draping it over Adam's shoulder. "Whatever, man." He grinned as Gerardo Sandoval, one of his most reluctant remedial readers strode past in the picket line and flipped the shoulders of his shirt, indicating the 'Save Mr. Germaine' logo that had been created by one of his more artistic students. "This is pretty unreal though."

Guy had known when he started contacting the parents of his students that he would receive support. He worked hard at what he did and he had made a great deal of connections with neighborhood families. He had also always known that his friends would turn out to support him and try to save his job. But he had never even hoped to imagine the sheer volume of people who turned up that Monday to protest his dismissal at the school board offices. There were students, parents, community members he had never met, Couch Neumann, and his friends. He smiled over at Adam and then his jaw dropped at the familiar face.

He pulled away and rushed forward to shake the man's hand before being enveloped in a hug. "Coach Bombay!" Bombay released Guy from the embrace and held him at arm's length, getting a good look. Guy reached up and ran a hand through his sandy hair and grinned. "I can't believe you're here! Thank you so much." He swallowed hard, aware of the thick emotion evident in his voice.

Gordon waved a hand in dismissal. "Are you kidding, Guy?" He leaned in, lowering his voice. "I've always hated that there was nothing I could do to help you when you didn't get drafted." He sighed. "But this…well this I know a little bit about." He pointed at the building at his back. "They can't let you go over something like this without giving you a chance to speak before the board. I'm going to make some calls and see what I can do." He backed away again, heartened by Guy's huge smile. "Oh, plus I brought reinforcements." He stepped to the side, his grin huge.

"Oh man." Guy felt his jaw drop and then the smile break the lines of his face. Behind Bombay Charlie and Beau stood together, both wearing the green protest shirts. He rushed forward and swept Beau up in a fierce grip, swinging her in a circle once and then sitting her on the ground.

Charlie sneered, but the humor was plain on his face. "What, no love for the guy you've been friends with since, like, birth?"

Guy turned to him, embarrassed that his eyes had filled and sniffed once, acting tough. "What's up, Conway?"

Charlie stared at him, giving him a quick shove in the chest. "Shut up." And then he had his arm around Guy's neck, ruffling his hair and then pushing him away. He saw Guy looking behind them, assumeably for a stroller, and shook his head. "The kids aren't here."

Guy raised his eyebrows, opening his mouth to protest their attendance, but Beau edged up to his side, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Don't argue. They're older now and my parents have been dying to come stay with them for a while. Devin's got school, so he's helping to." She dropped her head against the side of his. "Besides, this is **so** important and Rachel and Fulton couldn't be here either. We all talked and decided that two of us could represent all four." She gestured openly. "So here we are." She pulled back, looking at his hazel eyes and smiling a little sadly. "I couldn't **not** be here, you know?"

He squeezed her tightly and smiled at Charlie. "Yeah, I know."

**

* * *

Philyra**: I'm glad you're happy to see Cole. So was I! And I'm glad you enjoyed Darby. You can definitely plan to see more of her.

**Sinbin05**: Yay! I'm glad to see you back and to hear that you've been keeping up with the story! Here's a little more Guy for you. I needed some inspiration on him and got it, thankfully.

**Cc**: Things are okay here on this end. I just found out I'm moving in January so time for new job searches, house hunting, etc. soon. Blah. I hope all is okay and thanks for the compliment on my writing. Hope this one gets you smiling.

**Just****a** **fan**: I can say with pretty decent certainty that there will be a romance with Darby and Cole. I don't have any good fluff to write now that everyone else is all paired off. Glad you guys all like her so much.

**Duckfluff**: Well, don't hold your breath, but I have something pretty darn big in the works for your "next favorite couple" Adam and Kimball. Ahem ahem ahem.

**antiIrony**: I really have toyed with the idea of Cole being gay, but was worried that so many of my reviewers love him so much that they'd be too sad! So, he gets a girl. Aww!

**Tragicallypicturesque**: I'm kind of surprised that everyone likes Adam and Kimball so much because they sort of started out as a little bone to a girl that wanted more Adam. I'm glad you guys love them!

**Eixip**: Short? Seemed kinda long to me. Six pages typed I think. You're probably going to find this one short too. I'm sorry!


	16. To Friends

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Guy sat in the front row the school board meeting room, Beau's hand squeezing his periodically, and couldn't help but think how much the room looked like a courtroom. _Probably by design_, he thought before trying to listen more closely to what was being said. 

Coach Bombay had been true to his word and had made enough public statements pertaining to Guy's rights as a state employee that the school board had finally agreed to hear what he had to say…so long as it fit in a neat little five minute package. That had been the time limit they had given him to address such little topics as, you know, his job, his pride, his reputation, and most importantly, the welfare of his students.

Guy had always felt like he was an intelligent and articulate man. He could spar with Beau using only words and he had never had a problem expressing himself. When he graduated college and became a teacher he had found his public speaking legs. He couldn't remember a time over the past three or four years when he had become nervous at speaking in front of a group. Perhaps because the groups he normally spoke to consisted of thirteen year olds and hockey players. Not quite the same as the formidable group sitting before him.

_That must be the reason that my stomach is threatening to rebel all over my shoes._ He smirked a little at the thought but the look was immediately pulled from his face by his pounding heart. It was nearing his time to speak and he felt adrift. He looked to his left and right and was met by reassuring smiles. Smiles from friends.

_I shouldn't feel alone. I'm surrounded by love and support._ Thinking that he looked at Beau who was whispering something nervously to Charlie who then patted her leg and smiled at Guy before running a hand over his wife's hair. Beside Charlie sat Gordon Bombay and his new wife Camille. They were holding hands and leaning towards each other, but Bombay's ears were quite clearly tuned to the proceedings going on before them.

Turning slightly in his seat Guy couldn't help but smile a bit at his legions of support. Almost every original Duck and many of those that came on in later years were crowded into the second and third rows. Behind them were students and members of teams he had coached spanning back to his first year of teaching. But all of it didn't erase the feeling of loneliness eating at him. He had been denying it for the past few days, unwilling to let his self-worth lie in the presence – or lack thereof – of one girl.

_Why should I deny it?_ He had woken up to that thought that very morning. Connie had been the most important thing in his life since he was a kid. He had loved her as completely as he knew how. She had been more important than his family, his other friends, and even hockey. But today, on possibly the most important day of his life, she was absent. _Is that my doing?_ He felt miserable even contemplating that. _Connie is absent from this meeting and from my life._

At least she was until she walked in the back door of the room and stood squarely in the center isle, scanning faces. It took Guy a moment to realize that he wasn't breathing as he studied the site of her and wondered whether or not she was some sort of cruel mirage – a trick his evil mind had decided to play on him.

She wore long straight-legged jeans and had somehow managed to get her hands on one of the "Save Mr. Germaine" t-shirts. Seeing the support for him scrawled across her chest had his heart beating faster and a smile tugging at the corners of his gaping mouth.

Her hair was shorter than the last time he had seen her. For as long as he could remember Connie had has a thick mane of chestnut brown hair down to the middle of her back. Now she had it cut to her shoulders in long layers that framed her face, making her look much older and more sophisticated.

As he was staring at her hair, drinking in the planes of her face, her eyes locked on his and Guy felt the breath in his lungs stop. They stared at each other for a very long moment and Guy wasn't sure if it was seconds or minutes. All he could do was marvel at the fact that she was there.

_

* * *

Fuck it, Moreau. Swallow your pride. You've messed this up enough._

Connie had been doing a great deal of soul searching over the past few weeks. She had tried to convince herself that being alone, just being Connie instead of 'Connie, Guy's girlfriend' would be good for her hockey career and good for her as a person. How miserably wrong she had been. That had become abundantly clear so very fast. She was lost without him.

By the time she was willing to admit that she loved being 'Connie, Guy's girlfriend,' she couldn't find the right way to apologize. She felt terrible. He had given her everything of himself for more years than she could remember and she had just let it slip away. _How do you apologize for something as profound as that?_

And then she had heard about him losing his job. Beau had left her several phone messages, but she had never returned them, to embarrassed by her actions. Finally, she received a little lavender note card in the mail announcing the birth of Charlie's new son and daughter and scrawled on the back, in Charlie's nearly illegible handwriting, was a brief explanation of what had happened to Guy and the effort being mounted to help him.

Connie wasn't sure she believed in God or destiny, but she knew that something or someone had intervened to bring the two of them back together. There wasn't anything that could have kept her away, other than her own childish fears of how Guy would react.

He was staring at her now and though it had only been weeks since they had seen each other – they had gone so much longer in the past – or having not heard his voice, or his simple reassurances about life…Connie felt her knees shaking weakly beneath her. She was holding the smile on her face, hoping that he would respond.

Somewhere from what felt like another world she was dimly aware of the man sitting behind the large conference desk at the front of the room saying Guy's name. It didn't seem that Guy had heard the summons either. His mouth was open and she could see the gray of his eyes, even from such a distance, boring into her. She tentatively tried a small smile and when he returned the gesture, she couldn't help but break into a huge grin. Raising a hand she gave a small wave, mouthing the words "I'm here."

* * *

"**Mr. Germaine."** The head of the school board had called Guy's name once now, and this, the second time, was quite insistent. Concerned, Beau looked over at her friend and was surprised to see him swiveled in his seat, facing the back of the room with his arm over the back of the bench. 

Looking up, she followed his gaze and couldn't help but grin when she saw Connie. She squeezed Charlie's hand and heard his little sigh of self-satisfaction when he too noted Connie's presence. Already she could see the slump of Guy's shoulder lessen and the old light finding its way back into his eyes.

But Connie, unfortunately, was not enough to get his job back. Beau nudged him, leaning close to his ear. "Guy." He still ignored her and she dug a finger harshly into his ribs. "**Guy!**"

"Ow!" Guy turned around sharply, annoyed at being drug away from his long look at Connie. He was still replaying her mouthed words in his head. "I'm here." It meant a lot, didn't it? She was there to support him. She was there to be with him. She was just there…where she should be.

The dull throbbing in his side had him glaring at Beau, his voice a loud whisper. "Ease up, Beau." But he grinned at her. "Connie's here."

She smiled back at him. "I know." She discreetly pointed towards the front of the room, her voice a whisper as well. "You're on."

Guy pivoted his head to face the panel and was shocked to find them all staring at him with stony expressions. "Shit."

Beau poked him again, this time gently. "Speak from the heart, Guy."

He stood up, tugging at the bottom of his suit jacket to remove the wrinkles. _Guy Germaine with no wrinkles in his clothes_, he thought, completely aware of how ludicrous the notion was. _I've come a long way_.

He looked back at Connie who gave him a tiny thumbs up and then covered her heart with both hands before extending them back towards him, palms up. He full support and love. Guy felt every ounce of tension drain out of his body. He unfisted his hands and began breathing normally again. _I can do this._

* * *

"Speech!" The word was being shouted from around the room and reluctantly Guy stood and, realizing that he couldn't see anyone, he then climbed onto his seat and looked around. Everything had happened so fast that the reality of the situation hadn't quite sunk in. 

After he had spoken to the board, not from prepared notes, but from his heart, there had been five full minutes of thunderous applause in the room. He had turned on his heel and strode to the back, enveloping Connie in a hug and whispering how much he loved her in her ear.

When the applause had finally dwindled, 'the community' was given a chance to speak. The school board by-laws imposed no limit to the number of people who could step forward, so long as they spoke for only two minutes. Guy had a strong feeling that at their next meeting the changing of that rule would be brought up.

One by one his friends, students, and even people he had never met had stepped to the podium and had spoken for him. Nearly four hours later Guy was exhausted but beaming when the last person, a senior on his hockey team, finished. After such an exuberant – and longwinded – outcry from the community who voted the school board members into the very seats they now occupied, they had no choice but to reinstate Guy in his job.

Now family and friends alike celebrated at a local restaurant.

"Speech!" This from Goldberg as he beamed at Guy standing with his head near the restaurant ceiling. Guy rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Okay already, Goldie. It's not like I'm standing on this bench for my good health. Obviously I'm going to give a speech."

Applause scattered around the room had his cheeks blushing pink, so Guy took a sip of his beer and then held his glass out in front of his chest. He couldn't quite think where to start and the realization of how much he owed the people before him had his throat closing with emotion.

"There aren't words to express what this all means to me." He searched the room and found a booth where Gordon Bombay, his wife, and Coach Orion sat together. "I want to thank my coaches. The hearing today wouldn't even have happened if it wasn't for Coach Bombay." He nodded appreciatively at Bombay and the former Ducks gave out raucous yells. "And Coach Orion." Guy shook his head. "I don't know how to thank you for getting the Dean of Eden Hall to offer me a job." He smiled. "Or how to thank you for asking me to assistant coach with you. It would have been wonderful and I'm sad to be passing it up."

He took a deep breath, surveying the eyes staring up at him. "I want to say thank you to the community - all the parents and family members. It's you all who really turned the tide and I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you for that."

A heavy set African American woman in the back of the restaurant cupped her hands around her mouth. "You just keep teaching our children, baby! That'll be thanks enough!"

To the tune of laughs and cheers Guy grinned. "Yes ma'am. That I can do." He looked down at Connie, feeling his heart quicken at the site of her next to him, and then over to his friends where they crowded around a table, beaming up at him. "I need to say a special thanks to my friends."

He didn't speak for a moment, again overwhelmed with emotion. It was not often in a man's life that he found the chance to tell his friends what they meant to him…especially when your friends were a bunch of rough and tumble hockey players. He knew he would most likely be teased for laying his feelings bare, but it seemed important. He looked down at them, but their stares were too direct and so he averted his gaze to his beer.

"I don't think that many people my age can say that they have predominantly the same friends that they had when they were ten. I do, and I also have the most amazing friends from college and they all are the best friends that anyone could hope for." He looked up at them now, and then back down at Connie. "My friends are more my family than my family ever was and this groups sticks by each other no matter what. I don't know how to say thanks for that."

Clearly fighting his own emotions, Charlie stood up, his glass held high in the air, and looked around. "To friends."

"To friends!" Everyone raised their classes in unison to the toast and as Charlie sat back down, his hand finding Beau's, Guy cleared his throat.

"But I think the most important people I should thank this evening are my students - former and current. You guys caring as much as you do…" He trailed off, swallowing audibly. "I will be proud of that until the day that I die. Thank you so much." He laughed a little, trying to play off the shimmer of tears swimming over his eyes. "I hope you've all been doing your homework because I'll be back on Monday!"

A boy that looked to be about sixteen, bearing a striking resemblance to Jesse and Terry Hall, climbed onto the bench beside Guy, his soda grasped in his hand. He held out a palm to his teach, which Guy accepted quickly, pulling the boy into a hug and whispering something in his ear.

Beau leaned towards their table and whispered to her friends. "That's Donald Chavis. Guy helped him get into a stable foster home and got him into hockey when he was fourteen and now he's gotten very good and is on the honor roll and has managed to stay out of the gang that his brother is in."

They all nodded solemnly and turned back to where the boy had released Guy. He looked at the crowded room and then brushed a stray spike of black hair away from his forehead. He raised his glass. "To Mr. Germaine."

Everyone jumped to their feet cheering. "To Mr. Germaine!"

* * *

"It's about time." Averman took another long sip of beer and pointed at Guy and Connie where they were sitting in a booth at the restaurant, heads bent close and laughing. "The world didn't feel quite right with them being apart." 

"Amen to that!" They all raised their drinks in the air and cheered. Guy looked over at them, happier than they had seen them in a while.

Averman squinted at Beau where she was squished on a bench between Cole and Charlie. "You're drinking Diet-Coke?" He looked over his shoulder for a waitress. "This girl needs a beer." He looked back at Beau. "Why aren't you drinking beer?"

She rolled her eyes first at Charlie and then Averman. She patted her belly. "Still trying to lose the baby weight. You don't carry around twelve pounds of kid without having to do a few sit-ups afterwards."

Cole eyed her incredulously. "Shut up, Mayland."

Charlie leaned forward, his cheeks a little pink from the heat, the bodies, and the drinks. "Ahem."

Cole only rolled his yes. "Oh drop it, Charlie. I called her Mayland for years before you got married and I'm too much of an asshole to change my ways. I'm calling her Mayland."

Muttering under his breath, Charlie raised his glass to his lips. "There was **one** part of that statement that was accurate."

Everyone laughed, but Averman refused to drop the subject. "Baby weight? You're full of crap. You look awesome." The waitress leaned over the table, her eyebrows raised. Averman pointed at Beau. "She'll have a Shiner Bock when you get a chance. Thanks."

Beau sighed as the girl walked away. "You're going to have to drink that one yourself, Les. I'm sticking with soda tonight."

He glowered. "Oh, c'mon. Why?"

She shook her head, brown curls bouncing. "You don't want to know."

He was persistent as usual. Shoving his glasses up his nose he nodded his head. "Sure I do."

Beau gestured around the table, throwing her arms to the back of the booth, resting on Cole and Charlie's shoulders. "**They** don't want to know."

Jesse leaned back in his chair, propping his ankle on his knee. "Jesus, girl, just tell him so we can end this damn conversation." This elicited another toast and drinking.

Beau shrugged. "Fine." She looked at Charlie who nodded at her. "I can't drink because I'm still breast feeding."

At the mention of her breast everyone at the table except for Charlie turned bright red and looked away.

"Shit, Averman." Jesse leaned forward, still avoiding both Beau and Charlie's eyes, and smacked Les directly in the forehead. "She **told** you we didn't want to know."

Beau leaned forward, resting her pretty chin in her hands. "He's right. I **told** you no one wanted to know." Feeling that Averman was sufficiently chastised, she let her gaze travel over her friends and chuckled. "God, you guys. Quit freaking out. You've known me since I was eighteen." She looked at Cole. "You helped me into my wedding dress." She pointed at Riley and Jesse. "You guys stripped off my gear down to my bra when you thought I wasn't breathing that time in practice after Dave checked me." They were all still avoiding her eye contact. She smiled smugly. "I have breasts. Get over it."

**

* * *

Aradia-rising**: I didn't hear about that thing in Boston, but I had a teacher friend who was from Russia and the nasty students at our school were terrible to him and he lost his job because he supposedly "provoked" a student into throwing a whole can of green beans at his head (don't ask) and knocking him out. Needless to say the other teachers protested and got him his job back!

**antiIrony**: Sorry for making you weepy! And you can thank duckys for the Bombay appearance. She reminded me that he had been too long absent!

**Duckfluff**: Well, I smile pretty much every time I think of some Conway! Mmmm. As for Adam and Kimball, give it another chapter or two. Things are getting ready to boil over on that front. It's not going to be good, that's all I'm saying…hint hint.

**AdoptedThug**: Thanks! Yeah, Guy can be a stand up guy when he needs to be.

**Sinbin05**: There you go. More Guy fluffiness and just for you, Connie back in the mix.

**Justafan**: Don't worry, there will be more Darby soon. I miss her myself already.

**Duckys**: Bombay being back is all you. Thanks for the idea.

**Tragicallypicturesque**: There you go…Connie!

**Johnny**: Things always work out for Guy. He's too nice for them not too…and too cute!

**Hockeygirl-90**: Croatia? No way! I'm half Croatian! What were you doing over there? I've always wanted to go. Spill it!

**Cc**: Thank you as always for the compliments. I'm glad you enjoy the story so much and it's definitely people like you – and the Duck voices in my head, haha – that keep me writing.


	17. Foibles

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"Hi there, stranger." 

Cole stopped just as he was making a left out of his gate, heading in the direction of baggage claim. He turned around with a smile already in place. "Hi, yourself." Darby O'Connor was just as pretty as he remembered her being, if not even more so. Today she was more casual in slim cut jeans and a pretty pink three quarters sleeve button up shirt. Her hair was down again, though, which he loved.

It had been her translator who had spoken to Cole from several feet behind, but now that he was facing them, Darby raised a hand and smiled, speaking in the lilt that was so common to those unable to hear. "Hi."

He smiled broadly at her, uncharacteristically nervous, and blew a golden curl out of his eye. "Fancy meeting you here." He gestured around at the crowded Toronto airport.

Her hands moved and the man spoke. "It's a small world."

Forgetting completely that there was another person standing right there Cole quickly remembered and turned and nodded his head at the tall gentleman standing just to Darby's side. "Rick."

They had stopped directly in the middle of the main thoroughfare and people were having to sidle around them to get to their destinations. Looking over his shoulder, Cole pointed. "Do you have to go through baggage claim?"

Darby nodded silently and together they hefted their satchels and began walking through the throngs of people, Rick trying to keep to Darby's side where she could see him signing, or more importantly, so he could see her signing and translate for Cole. Walking side by side she would have no trouble reading lips.

_I didn't realized how tall he was._ Darby found herself in the unusual position of being a bit nervous. Men didn't make her nervous, as a rule, but something about Cole Procida had her a bit off kilter. "We were so busy talking about hockey on the flight down I didn't get to ask you where you were going." She smiled a little. "Or I guess now it would be where you're coming home from."

Cole didn't resist the urge to let a huge smile play across his features and the force of the natural expression had Darby's steps slowing a bit as the expression hit her in the gut with a thick tangle of lust. Thankfully he didn't notice and she once again quickened her pace to keep up with his long strides. As his mouth began to move, she focused her eyes intently on his lips, for the first time in a very long time thankful for her disability – it gave her the chance to stare openly and without embarrassment.

"A much needed vacation."

She raised her eyebrows, a clear question for more detail, and tried to focus as she wondered what his voice sounded like. At their first meeting, she had spent a few minutes imagining him with a slow southern drawl. He had the easy demeanor and lazy smile for it. But then he had told her that he was born and raised in Michigan and she began imagining something a little quicker paced and hard edged. Not too much accent, but a deep timber.

"My best friend from college, Beau, was having a birthday dinner thing at her house in Michigan and it was a good chance to see her, and her husband who I also played hockey with, and their two new babies. They also have a son they adopted who is this super cool sixteen-year-old that's a blast to hang out with."

She smiled at that. At the rate his lips were moving, she could tell that he was rushing through the story…a sure sign that the trip had been exciting and important to him. She raised her hands.

"Didn't you say your parents lived there?"

Cole nodded and she couldn't help but smile at the way his unruly hair bounced a little. He kept his eyes either on the floor or on her the whole time. Usually people stared at Rick, speaking as if they were having the conversation with him instead of her. She got used to it, but it was refreshing to have Cole completely tuned into her. He was talking again, the grin still in place.

"I spent a few days with them. Got some good home cooking," he winked. "Not something we bachelors get often enough." He smiled when she laughed. "Let Mom tell me I was too thin and Dad ask me nine hundred questions about how I was handling my money. It was good."

She pointed at his t-shirt. "Were you doing some sort of fund-raising as well?"

He looked down and seemed to be surprised to find the green shirt covering his chest. _What is it with men and barely being cognizant when they dress in the morning?_

"Oh, not really. My friend Guy, who I also played hockey with, is teaching now and he got fired for a ridiculous reason and there was a big protest and a school board meeting and so we all flew in to give him some support."

"It sounds like you and your friends are very close."

He nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah. I mean, I had friends before college and I'd played on teams before, but the guys and one girl that I played with at Pennington State…" he seemed to sigh. "They were such a family and it's just unreal how close we've all stayed." He grinned. "I love those guys."

Darby thought about that for a long moment, a bit surprised to hear a man talking so freely about his friends in a context other than drinking or going to games.

He looked down at her as they stopped in front of a baggage carol and reached up to rest his hand on the strap of his bag. "What about you? Where are you coming back from?"

Cole was so used to seeing women relying on their bodies to hide their insecurities, standing with their arms crossed over their chest. Clearly needing to use sign-language, Darby was unable to do that and it was energizing watching her hands fly into various signs and letters.

"I'm a publicist for celebrity types and a couple of rather large public companies and I had to fly out to California to be at a press conference to answer questions about the hostile take over of a software firm."

Cole stared down at her in admiration. Here she was, this 5'3" gorgeous woman who looked like she wouldn't hurt a fly, and she was making statements for some of the more rich and powerful people and companies in the world. She had absolutely no pretense of superiority or arrogance on her face and Cole was tremendously impressed.

"Do you have to be there for that kind of thing? I would think you could do that from your office."

"It's a little of both. Most statements we can make from the office, but I do a lot of traveling since we aren't based in the traditional New York or Los Angeles. With something this big, though, it was good to be there to make sure the CEO wasn't saying anything stupid." She grinned. "Plus, it was perfect beach weather."

He grinned back. He loved how she could slip from professionalism right into that playful persona without a hitch. He bent down to take a closer look at her arm. She held it out and he pressed a finger to the very light brown skin, smiling more when a tiny white finger mark showed briefly before fading. "Yup. You're definitely tanner than you were the first time I met you."

He had thought he had noticed a quick falter in her smile when they touched and for the first time he was glad that she couldn't hear him. He spoke to cover the color rising in his cheeks and his voice failed him, catching on the first few words. When he had felt his skin against hers something akin to an electric shock had shot through his body. He had been with his fair share of girls, but that had most certainly never happened.

* * *

Coming home to a nice clean house was always such a nice feeling. While they had been at the Conway's, and then in Minnesota for Guy, Adam had asked the cleaning service to come in so that they would have clean sheets and that great fresh house smell. But for Kimball returning to Los Angeles was a double-edged sword. She was ready to get back to work and there was always a limit to how much vacation a girl could stand. But she also felt the boundaries of L.A. and her life pressing in around her. 

When they sifted through the mail upon returning, they found nothing from her admirer. She hated that word now. Instead of being a playful term of endearment it made her skin feel slick and slimy and always seemed to produce a bitter taste in her mouth.

On her first day back at work no threatening messages awaited. It almost felt normal - normal if you didn't count the train sized body guards following her at every moment she wasn't with Adam and the fact that the two of them had stopped going out completely when they weren't at work.

As she drove home late that night after work, Brighton the security guy in a large SUV behind her – _and what kind of name is Brighton for a body guard anyway?_ – she couldn't help but wish the whole ordeal would finally come to a head so that she could move on with her life – her life with Adam.

Thinking that very thought she pulled into the underground parking below their building and, making a goofy face, waved at Brighton as he pulled in next to her, hopping out at the ready to walk her to the door of their unit.

* * *

"I'll be right there!" Beau raised her voice so that Charlie could hear her as she made her way through the dining room en route to the kitchen where he was setting out a bowl of ice cream for her. She had just come down from putting both babies to sleep and she was dying to hear what Cole had said to Charlie on the phone call she had missed. But first she had to detour past Devin. 

He was hunched over the antique wood dining room table, papers spread out before him and his ear phones drowning out the world. Unfortunately, they were also drowning out Beau's world too. She walked close to him, not stopping, and yanked them from the back of his head as she continued around the table.

"Too loud. Let's not ruin your hearing quite yet, huh?" She kept moving, laughing when Devin scowled at her but laughed.

He indicated the papers spread around him and the massive pile of notes under his pen. "I'm going to be done with this paper on Sir Gawain soon. Do you think you could proof it for me?"

She nodded. "Sure. Just grammar or content too?"

He raised a dark surprised eyebrow and for the one hundredth time shoved his hair out of his eyes. "You know the story?"

She laughed a little, heading towards the kitchen. "English major, baby. **Do I know the story**," she asked incredulously over her shoulder.

"Content too, then!" he called after her.

In the kitchen Charlie looked at her and pulled out a chair from the table. She sank down into it, shoved a heaping spoon of caramel ice cream into her mouth and heaved a great sigh. Talking through a full mouth she eyed him as he sat down next to her. "I'm estashsed."

Charlie smiled his widest smile. "What was that, dear? It was hard to understand you through the mouth full of food." He nudged her foot. "Very ladylike, by the way."

She leaned back in the chair, picking up the bowl and holding it over her chest. She swallowed pointedly. She grinned sarcastically. "You love it." She paused. "And I said I'm exhausted." Then she shoved another bite in her mouth.

Reaching down Charlie took a hold of her left foot and pulled it up to rest her calf on his knee. Wrinkling his brow he untied the laces of her pink Chuck Taylor and dropped the shoe to the floor. She smiled dreamily, her eyes closed, as he began to knead the bottom of her foot gently. He smiled at how content she looked. "After you finish eating why don't you go up and take a nice long bath. I'll proof Devin's paper and if the babies wake up I'll take care of them tonight. Practice starts late tomorrow."

She opened one eyelid, looking at him in slight alarm. "Fat chance. I think Devin would prefer to pass on his paper. I remember quite a few of your college essays that needed a heavy editing hand."

He scoffed. "Just because I'm a jock doesn't mean I can't write well."

She smiled. "No. Just because you're **you**." Pulling her bare foot to the floor she took another bite and dropped her unrubbed foot into his lap. He laughed at her. "But thanks for the offer. And I **will** take you up on twin duty tonight." He nodded as she continued. "And while I appreciate the optimism of the statement where you said you take care of them **if** they woke up, I think you might want to rephrase. **When** they wake up. It's inevitable. I swear those kids will be 45 and still not sleeping through the night."

He laughed and leaned forward to open his mouth when she offered him the last bite of her dessert. "I thought you wanted to know what Cole had to say."

He eyes widened and she yanked her foot back to the floor, setting down her bowl and propping her elbows on the table. She had almost forgotten. "Oooh. Tell me. I thought I heard you say something about a girl and hot dates."

He squinted. "Was I talking that loud?"

She rolled her eyes. "You always talk that loud, Conway."

He stood up, setting her bowl in the sink. "What is this? Point out Charlie's foibles night?"

She laughed, following him to the sink and wrapping her arms around him when he turned to face her. "If it were, I would probably mention the fact that you just lamely used the word 'foible.'"

He pinched her in the side and laughed when she squealed, backed away, and hopped up to sit on the kitchen island. "Okay, so Cole. He met this girl. Carby or Marby I think he said her name was."

Beau signed. _Leave it to Charlie to get **none** of the details right._ "Carby or Marby?"

He looked at her blankly before finally shaking his head. "Okay, probably not. But let's not dwell on her name okay?" When she only continued staring at him he continued. "He met her on the plane on the way here. Says he didn't mention her because he thought he wouldn't see her again. But when he got back the other day he ran into her in the airport."

Beau smiled wistfully, thinking of how she had thought she would only be seeing Charlie in class the first time she had met him at Pennington. After that first day it seemed she couldn't quite **stop** running into him. "Small world."

He nodded. "Yeah. So, he described her as, and I quote, 'totally hot, but not in that blond hockey groupie kind of way.'" He waited for, and got, the response.

"That Cole's a real gentleman, huh?"

Charlie nodded again, laughing. "I told him as much and he just told me to shut up. Anyway, so she's hot and some sort of high power publicist. Really sassy he says, just like you."

Beau crossed her arms over her chest. "Who's calling me sassy? Him or you?"

Charlie mimicked her posture and glared back at her. "Don't try to act like you don't know you're sassy. You love being that way." He sighed when she reached out a foot an attempted to kick him in the shin. "**Cole** said it." She looked a little surprised, assumably because Cole had mentioned her when describing his new hot prospect. Charlie rolled his eyes. "Oh please. We all know Cole's been in love with you for years."

Beau's eyes opened wide and Charlie dropped his head back, laughing heartily. When he finally stopped he looked down at her, amusement evident in his voice. "Okay, so apparently 'all of us' doesn't include you. You really didn't know. Huh." He kicked her foot gently. "I think you're like his ideal woman. It makes sense he'd compare someone to you." He watched her try to digest this apparently new piece of information. "Here, this tidbit will help you forget what I just said." He paused dramatically. "She's deaf."

Beau's eyes widened a little more and Charlie knew the fact had done its job. "Yeah. Has a translator. The whole nine. And they have a date on Friday. Cole, Carby/Marby, and the translator." He nodded knowingly. "I recognized that sound in his voice. He's smitten."

Beau smiled slightly. "Interesting indeed." She hopped back down to the floor, her head still reeling, and headed towards the dining room to see if Devin was nearly done with his work. She stopped and looked over her shoulder, reaching up to absently scrunch a handful of her auburn curls. "And you just used the word 'smitten.' That's foible number three for the night."

**

* * *

anitIrony**: I'm in my 20's and let me tell you, boys/men get no better. Your male friends will always find it slightly disturbing/totally hot that you have breasts. Idiots.

**AdoptedThug**: Glad you liked it. I don't know. I just wanted Guy to shine a little.

**Duckfluff**: Good for you if you undertake re-reading that monstrosity. I was looking back through it the other night for reference and was a bit appalled. One should never reread their own work. I can't think of any reasons for Beau and Charlie to be sappy again. Any suggestions?

**Just****a** **fan**: Yeah, Averman's an idiot. That's why I love him! Thanks for reading!

**Penmen**: Glad to have you back! Let's see if I can catch you up. Adam plays for the Anaheim Ducks. He got drafted like three quarters of the way through Everything's Eventual. Devin is the little boy in EE that Beau met on the plane and then invited to the film set and then stayed in touch with. His mom died and then in this one his dad, etc. Yes, they were married in the last chapter of EE. This one starts later. Rachel and Fulton have been married 3 months, and they got married after Beau and Charlie. That's when Beau finds out she's pregnant. Then they have the kids 9 months later. Thanks for coming back…missed ya!

**Hockey-girl90**: Cool. I'm very jealous. Glad you liked the chapter.

**Tragicallypicturesqe**: Thank you for saying they seem real. That's what I'm going for, so that's GREAT to hear! All the pleading in the world will not stop what I have planned for dear Adam and Kimball. I will say that neither of them dies though! Ah the suspense.

**Duckys**: Guess you'll have to wait and see! Thanks for reading!

**Flyinghawk**: Sorry I haven't had more updates lately. Work has been totally nuts and will be for the next month or so, so I doubt I'll have much time to write. Stay with me though!

**Johnny**: Thanks, as always!


	18. A Bird in the Hand

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"Adam." Kimball pushed herself up on her elbow and leaned closer to where Adam lay asleep on his pillow. She raised her voice marginally, but it was still a whisper. "**Adam**!" 

Very slowly, Adam reached up a hand and felt for her head where it hovered near his shoulder. It took him a moment, but he finally slid his fingers into her curly hair. He sighed gently, his voice thick with sleep. "What is it, kiddo?"

She kept her voice soft, lowering her lips close to his ear. "I heard a noise. I think someone's in the condo."

Though he had been close to dosing of again, she felt his hand tighten in her hair and she was acutely aware of every muscle in his body tensing in recognition of her statement. He turned just slightly on his back, his eyes finding hers in the dark of their room. He too whispered.

"Where did the noise come from?"

She shook her head, straining to think over the pounding that was taking place inside her head. "I'm not sure. I think it was the balcony though, because it sounded like something hitting those glass doors."

He didn't say anything for a long moment and Kimball got the distinct impression that he was holding his breath and listening to see if he heard a sound coming from outside the bedroom.

When Adam heard nothing and could hold his breath no longer he ran a finger gently over Kimball's unusually cold cheek and kissed her briefly. "Okay. I'm going to go check it out." She opened her mouth to protest and he kissed her again for silence. "It's fine." She opened her mouth again and splayed her hand across his chest. Adam dropped his voice so that it was low and a bit dangerous. "I'll be **fine**."

He slid silently from under the sheets, having no trouble making his way across the hard wood floors now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He stopped by the closet and slid his arm into the abyss, feeling along the back wall. He finally found what he wanted and pulled his favorite old hockey stick from the clutter. He looked once more over his shoulder to where Kimball was sitting up in the bed, the sheets clutched around her chest. The moonlight spilling in the window was reflecting off of her pale skin and her green eyes, giving her a ghostly quality he had not seen before. He also couldn't help but notice how wide her beautiful eyes were and he felt compelled to send her a reassuring smile across the room as he hefted the hockey stick to hold in both hands.

Creeping out into the living room Adam tried to stay quiet, but found it hard to hear anything over the pounding of his heart. He had a brief moment to think of every silly movie he had seen where the comedic genius skulked through his own house looking for an absent intruder, and ended up walking into a wall or accidentally hitting his friend, instead of a burglar, with the bat.

Laughing a little at his own fear, he then had another moment to think of every horror movie Charlie had made him sit through when they were living together. The idiot hero walking into the room where the killer hid while he should have been running out of it to find a phone and call the police.

That sobering thought had him tightening his grip on the wooden handle and trying harder to look into the shadows. He edged closer and closer to the balcony door and made note of the fact that the lock was still engaged. If someone had come in, they were an awfully safety-conscious killer. That thought in mind, Adam reached up slowly and on a deep inhale, flipped on the outside lights.

He briefly felt his heart stop when he thought he saw movement in the corner of the patio, but he realized right away that it was only the wind blowing the ficus tree that Kimball had put outside a week prior. Looking around, his eyes finally landed on a bluebird, its lifeless body crumpled on the ground, its neck apparently broken from its flight into their French doors.

Heaving a huge sigh Adam looked down at it sadly, his head mostly, though, overjoyed with the relief of such an innocent disturbance.

"It was just the bird then?"

The voice from behind him had him jumping several inches in the air and whipping around with his hockey stick held high. Kimball jumped back out of swinging distance, her hands held before her, the sheet she had wrapped around herself falling to the floor.

"Geez! Don't **do** that!" Adam glared at her before laying his stick against the wall and making a great effort to control his now erratic breathing. "**Man**. Give a guy an early heart attack, why don't you?"

She grinned, shrugging. "I'm sorry. I was too scared sitting in the bedroom by myself so I followed you. When I saw it was just the bird I figured…" She shrugged again and wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.

Adam couldn't help but notice the goose bumps on Kimball's light skin and gazed up and down her body at the pale blue boy shorts and lace camisole. Once again his heart started racing and he took a few steps forward to pull her against him. Bending down he began feathering soft kisses across her bare shoulder.

Kimball gave a long content sigh before nuzzling into his bare chest. "You sure seemed awful tired when we went to bed."

Pulling back, Adam looked down at her, his blue eyes piercing in the light that was filtering in from the windows. "Yeah. Suddenly I'm much more awake." And then he picked her up and walked towards the bedroom.

* * *

"So what's she look like?" 

Beau walked into Devin's room to find him sprawled out on his bed, his feet on his desk, and his hand under his head. When the phone had rung almost fifteen minutes ago she had seen Cole's name on the caller ID, but Devin had gotten to the phone before she had. She had expected her name to be hollered down the steps at some point, but when it hadn't she had come up to investigate.

She watched as Devin wrinkled his brow while he listened and then his eyes grew wide. He hadn't noticed her yet. "Oh man, Cole. This chick sounds seriously hot!"

Beau rolled her eyes and walked forward a few steps, her hand slapping Devin's feet hard enough to have them shooting off the desk. "While my guess is that Cole's female friend would be oh so excited about a sixteen year old thinking she's hot, you better get moving or you're going to be late to practice."

Devin rolled his eyes, but noted the time on his watch and hopped up. "I've gotta jet, Cole. Beau's getting all…" he searched for the word. "Well, she's getting all **Beau** on me. Enjoy the date, man."

With a huge grin he shoved the cordless into Beau's hand and proceeded to grab his gear and his favorite Red Wings hoodie. "Later." He leaned over and kissed her cheek and then was out the door of his room at a run.

Smiling after him she sank onto the mess that was his bed and made a mental note to harass him more diligently about cleaning up after himself. She raised the phone to her ear. "Heya, Procida."

He scoffed, his voice imitating a stoner dude. "God. You are **such** a mom."

She did her best to sound harassed. "Yeah, that's really horrible. What with me actually being a mom and all."

Cole laughed and she pictured him pacing his living room, as he used to do when he talked on the phone when they lived together. She was momentarily struck with a pang of sadness missing him and Guy and the others. His light question broke the mood. "So what practice is Devin going to? Surely their coach doesn't have them doing Saturday practices this late in the season?"

Beau absently picked at a piece of lint on the bed. "No. He's coaching pee wee hockey. The Terminators. Today is the last practice before their first big game. I saw him buying eggs, so that should be interesting."

Cole laughed. "How very Coach Bombay/Ducks of him."

Beau smiled herself. "I know. I think Charlie put him up to it, but he'd never admit it." Before Cole could change the subject again she did it herself. "So, when's the big date?"

She could hear the grin on his face. "Tonight."

"Yeah? Where are you taking her?"

"Just dinner – a seafood restaurant that she likes. I thought I'd keep it simple for the first go-round."

Beau paused for a long minute, not wanting to add to Cole's nerves, if he even had them. She was pretty sure that he did not, though. This was Cole Procida that they were talking about. "Won't it be kind of weird with her translator there?"

He too was quiet. After a few breaths she got a mental image of him shrugging. "I don't know. It probably will be. It's kind of like you just ignore him." In the following silence she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. "If things go well tonight though, and I'm pretty damn sure they will…"

"Cocky much?" Beau had to laugh at him.

"Hey," Cole argued. "I'm a charming guy." When she laughed at him again he got serious. "No, really. There's just very something special about this girl. I think it'll be really good. So when it is, I have a plan to get rid of the translator."

Beau smiled, liking the conspiracy of the whole thing. "Oh, do tell."

* * *

"Kimball, call Detective Davis." 

She had just gotten out of the shower and was very taken aback by Adam's tense voice echoing in from the living room. She wasn't sure she had heard him right. "What?"

She fished tugging on her polo shirt and was towel drying her hair as she stepped into the room. Adam was standing in the open door to the balcony staring down at the ground where the bird was. She had known that he had planned to clean it up that morning, and he wasn't typically squeamish about things like that, so she couldn't figure out what had him leaning against the door frame, one hand scratching the back of his neck almost maniacally.

"What did you say, Adam?"

He wheeled around at the sound of her voice and strode across the living room in three quick steps. "I thought you were in the bedroom."

He looked angry and Beau was immediately on edge in defense. "Well, I'm not. You were hollering at me and I couldn't hear you."

He sighed, and checked the tone of his voice. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want…" He looked at her imploringly. "Just go in the bedroom and call Detective Davis and ask him to come over."

Adam felt bad the minute the words were out of his mouth. At the mention of the detective's name Kimball's face drained of all color and her mouth opened slightly. Finally, shaking her head, she tried to peek over his shoulder. He shook his head. "You don't want to see it, sweetie."

She squinted up at him. "Don't want to see what? Why do I need to call the detective?" Adam said nothing, trying to find the least frightening way to put things. Kimball lost patience. "**What is it, Adam**?"

Her voice had risen to near hysterics so it seemed that he needed to tell her or risk an even worse response. Placing his hands at her waist he lowered his head to look directly into her eyes. "I don't think the bird flew into the window last night."

Kimball was clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged slightly. "I think it was thrown there or something."

She smirked. "Adam, we lived on the twelfth floor. No one could throw a bird that high or hard enough to kill it."

His face blanched a little. "I think it was probably dead long before it hit the window." He loathed the next statement, but knew she would ask anyway. "It was gutted." Her face lost even more color but remained determined and he figured it best to tell her everything before she just pushed past him and saw for herself. "It looks like there's a note in the carcass and I can't see it all, but…" he pushed her firmly, knowing she would need to sit. When her legs were against the edge of the bed he finished. "The note definitely has your name on it."

Without a word Kimball sank to her knees and vomited all over the floor.

**

* * *

Author Note: Wow! So how long has it been? A LONG time, I know. I most definitely apologize for the severe lack of updates. I have been working 12 hour days 6 days a week and have barely been around a computer. I think I've probably missed Beau and Charlie and the rest as much as you guys in that time, so believe that they are still hanging out in my brain and I will, in no uncertain terms, finish this story! Hopefully the updates will be a little more frequent now, but probably still not my three a week of the past. I'm sorry I'm not able to respond to all of your reviews right now, but I've got to get back to work or NO more updates will get done. Just know that each and every one of them are still GREATLY appreciated and I hope you keep them coming! YOU GUYS ROCK!**


	19. Crazy Hot

Disclaimer - I do not own the. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Devin spent a great deal of his high school existence like every other teenager in history – trying not to make a complete idiot of himself in any given situation. This applied most particularly to any and all interactions with fellow students of the female variety. But as he got older and more and more interested in the opposite sex, it seemed inevitable that he would find good ways to inadvertently embarrass himself.

"Ouch!" At the sharp pain in the back of his head Devin whipped around, running his fingers through his hair. He found the sore spot and pulled his hand back out to examine his digits for blood. When he found none he looked up and glared at Kennedy. "What the hell, man?"

His teammate smirked. "I was trying to help you out, Kellerman. Do you really want everyone to see you staring across the room like a lovesick puppy? I was trying to snap you out of it."

Devin felt the heat creeping up his cheeks and looked down at the paper he was supposed to be editing for his friend. "I wasn't staring at anything."

Kennedy let out a great scoff and threw another large piece of paper in Devin's direction. "Right. If by 'not staring at anything' you actually mean 'slack-jawed ogling across the room at Annemarie' then yes, you weren't staring at anything."

"Jackass." Devin could think of nothing better to say, and that was probably for the best because Miss Schwartz chose that moment to look up from her podium at the front of the room.

"Mr. Smith! Mr. Kellerman-Conway!" They both looked up, eyes wide and overly innocent. "I believe the assigned task was editing each other's papers. **Not** throwing things and using inappropriate language."

"Yes ma'am." With that they grinned at each other and lowered their heads. Kennedy may very well have been looking at his paper, but Devin would bet his friend was doodling more than he was editing. Laughing a little he glanced up from under his long eyelashes and his hair where it was falling in his face and tried to look at Annemarie Forsell without actually **looking** like he was looking.

You couldn't go to their school and not know who Annemarie was. She was tall and beautiful and extremely popular. It always surprised Devin that he had a crush on her because he really wasn't into the popular type. But Annemarie had friends in every social group and didn't seem to get into the cliques that seemed to dominate the high school culture. Truth be told, she was the exception to just about every rule for what he thought he was into. She wasn't an athlete, but she had been in just about every play that the local schools and theaters had put on. The whole hockey team had gone to a production of musical numbers the year before for extra credit and the girl had a voice like…well, like nothing Devin had ever heard before.

And she was smart. That part Devin was taking for granted, as he had never been lucky enough to get paired up with her in English. But she was in all Advanced and AP classes, so that must mean that she had a brain in her beautiful head.

As if all of that wasn't enough, she was also 'crazy hot' as Kennedy would say, and **had** said on multiple occasions, as a matter of fact. She was tall – at least Beau's height – and had dark chocolate skin that looked as smooth as silk. He face was a contradiction with pale blue eyes and a huge smile - everything a bit too angular but somehow it all came together perfectly. Girls like her seemed to have that happened. Her hair was shoulder length and straight and a deep brown that made her skin glow even more.

Devin was running through the laundry list of Annemarie's attributes, completely ignoring the paper on his desk, and absently moving the pencil in his hand to feign doing actual work. He was caught by surprise when she suddenly turned in her chair and looked right at him, a smile growing on lips. His heart stopped for a very brief and very awkward moment where he thought he had been caught staring at her.

_Why would she be smiling at me?_ His mind tripped over the question. _That's the smile she gives all the idiots she knows are crushing on her. Nice, Devin. Way to be loser number one hundred and fifty-five. _But then she raised a hand and waved. _Why is she waving? She probably wants to point out to the whole class what a grade-A moron I am._

He looked casually over his shoulder as if he had just thought of something extremely important in his book bag. At the door to the classroom, delivering a note for the teacher, was a girl he knew to be one of Annemarie's friends. _Ah. It all becomes clear._ She had been waving at the girl.

_So which is better, you idiot? Her catching you staring and knowing your alive or being completely oblivious to your existence in this school?_

From his desk Smith let out a snort and pointed at Devin. "You are **so** staring."

* * *

"Detective, I'm getting really tired of the 'we still don't know anything' game." Adam had found it hard to sit still since he found the bird that morning and he was pacing the living room as the detective stood by the glass door taking notes.

Not saying anything for a long moment, the man sucked in a breath before turning towards Adam and raising his hands in a symbol of peace. "I understand, Mr. Banks." He raised his hands again as Adam opened his mouth to protest. "No. I really **do** understand. Five years ago my son was attacked and beaten up pretty badly and we played the waiting game too. So believe me when I say that I know it sucks royally."

Adam couldn't help but smile at the candid revelation. "Point taken. I'm sorry to be so impatient it's just…" he trailed off and it was impossible to notice his eyes cutting over to the closed bedroom door. Kimball had been drained after going over the non-existent list of people who might be considered her enemies with the detective for the nine hundredth time. She had retreated to a hot bath and a cold compress for her impending migraine. "It's just that my girlfriend…this is really hard on her."

Davis looked at Adam, his brow wrinkled. "I'd say from the looks of things it's pretty rough on you too."

Adam nodded. "It's hard to watch her be so scared." He shrugged. "And harder to feel like there's not a damn thing I can do about it."

* * *

"I like this place." Cole spent a minute imagining what it would have been like if Darby's interpreter hadn't been in attendance. There would have been a peaceful silence at their table, her hands gesturing softly in the space between them. Cole wasn't usually one for silence, but he had an idea that he would have enjoyed it with her.

"It's probably one of my favorites around here." She looked out the window to her left and down at the expanse of Toronto that spread out before her.

Cole followed her gaze. "I didn't even know it was here. Who knew that this city was so interesting looking from thirty stories up?"

Taking a bite of her salmon, Darby crinkled her brow, making him smile. "You've been here a couple of years now, right? Don't you explore the city at all?" Before he could answer she rushed on. "I moved a lot as a kid – Army brat – and the first thing I always wanted to do was explore my new home. I mean how can you not do that?" She signed it with a look of indignation on her face that had Cole laughing and holding up his hands.

"Whoa. Ease off there, tiger." She pointed a finger at him and he held up his hands again. "My schedule is pretty tight, you know? I go from home to practice to games and back to home."

She rolled her eyes and lifted her thick hair off her neck for a moment before letting it fall back in a black wave. "What about the off season?"

He shrugged. "Like now? I'm usually out in New York or Los Angles filming promotional stuff…" She cut him off with a quick flurry of her fingers.

"I've been meaning to say something to you about that." A wicked grin spread across her face that had his heart thumping audibly in his chest. "I could get you much better endorsements." When he only stared back at her she smiled. "Well, my friend Carly, who's an agent, could get you much better endorsements. I told her I was having dinner with you and she asked me to have you call her."

"Carly Jacobs?" Cole said the name with a slight hint of awe that he was sure was evident on his face. Hopefully Darby would assume he was impressed with her friend. After all, Carly Jacobs was one of the top sports agents in the country. She was pretty impressive. But the awe in his voice was that Darby had been talking to her friend about him.

Darby nodded proudly. "Yes, Carly Jacobs."

Cole thought for a long moment, particularly dwelling on the argument he had had recently with his agent about why he had no interest at all in making an appearance on the Martha Stewart show. He wondered if Carly Jacobs could get him on Conan. That was his dream. "Tell her I'll give her a call soon."

Nodding, Darby looked down at her nearly empty plate. She moved her hands, looking up shyly. "And will you be giving me a call – or email - after tonight?"

Cole was surprised at the raw hope in her usually controlled face and he felt his heart stutter at the thought that she wanted to see him again. It was turning into such a comfortable and surprising night. He considered for a moment, letting out a soft laugh when her brow crinkled at the delay in his answer.

"Of course I'll be emailing you." He frowned now, looking at her earnestly. "I have to be out of town for a month or so with a couple of things I have set up and then a visit to a friend of mine. But I'll most definitely be in touch." She smiled at him shyly and he felt exposed by the hunger for her growing in his stomach. Typical Cole felt the need to make a joke. "Think you'll be okay without me for that long?"

She grinned, tossing her hair flirtatiously. "I think I'll manage."

* * *

"Beau, I'm taking Murphy out for a walk!" Devin was standing by the front door, trying to shrug on his sweatshirt and clip Murph's leash all at the same time. When he finally got the fleece over his head he looked up the steps to where Beau was perched with two babies clawing at her legs and whining. She gave him a grateful smile.

"Thank you. He's not been getting walked enough since we've had the kids." She rolled her eyes and tried to sound stern. "He just pulls too much when he sees people for me to walk with him **and** the stroller." Murphy looked up at her with his basketball sized head and a string of drool trailing towards the floor. Beau sighed. "Poor guy. He used to be the king around here." She looked down to where Chase had reached between her legs and rapped Riley on the forehead. "Chase, give it a rest!"

She rolled her eyes and looked back down as Devin opened the door, laughing. "You laugh **now**, but you're baby-sitting on Wednesday night and you just wait. Now that they are semi-walking they are beating the crap out of each other."

Devin laughed again and stuck his head back through the door. "They're perfect angles around me, thank you very much." He thought for a second. "How about I walk Murphy every day. I need the exercise now that practice is winding down and it'd give you a break too."

Beau grinned. "I think that sounds like an exceptional plan. Thanks kiddo."

Devin trotted down the driveway, thinking that he might turn the walk into a gentle jog, but by the time they reached the street Murphy was giving him a look full of disgust. Mastiffs weren't known for their energy level and Murphy seemed to pride himself on sticking to his breed's description. He was slowing his gait, trying to sniff at everything out of the ordinary, including every leaf and stick on the sidewalk. Devin slowed his stride to match the dog's and sighed. "Fine you big lazy oaf. Stay fat and slow for all I care."

Seemingly content with that direction, Murph lumbered down the street as Devin let his mind wander. From the very far end of the tree lined road he saw a small figure running in their direction. At first he only had a very fuzzy view of a dark body clad in shorts and a t-shirt, a thick pony-tail bouncing in the back. Within a few moments, though, it became clear that Devin knew the runner.

"No way." It was a whisper to himself as he recognized Annemarie jogging through his neighborhood. As she got nearer and nearer he tried his hardest to look cool while slowly walking the behemoth of a canine. He dropped his shoulders back and pretended to scratch his head. In actuality, he was making sure his hair didn't still have bits of Cheerio in it from his afternoon snack with Riley.

Convinced that he didn't look too embarrassing, he stuck a hand in his pocket, trying to look forward all the while keeping one eye on Annemarie. She was more graceful than he would have thought for someone who didn't play sports and a small smile seemed to play on her lips. He understood the look he saw on her face. It was one he knew he had when he was skating laps around the rink. Content.

As she drew nearer, Murphy got wind of her scent and heard the soles of her shoes pounding on the pavement. His great head raised a fraction of an inch and his floppy ears seemed to perk as he swiveled to see her. He let out one resounding bark and bolted into the street.

The sudden movement took both Devin and Annemarie by surprise. Devin had been so caught up in his attempt to not stare that he had unwittingly loosened his grip on Murphy's leash. When the dog took off, it yanked the red nylon right through his fingertips and the animal was gone.

"Oh shit." His eyes widened and met Annemarie's for a brief second as she stopped running and watched the scene unfolding across the street. "Murphy! No!" After a brief second she seemed to realize that Murphy was bounding in her direction. She laughed and bent down to pet him, but realized much too late that he didn't plan on stopping.

Inches from her legs Murphy attempted to put on the breaks, but only succeeded in sliding into Annemarie's knees and knocking her to the ground. Before she could think about what was going on he was standing with his front feet on her chest, his big pink tongue making a long sweep across her cheek.

"Murphy, no!" Snapping out of his stupefication, Devin was across the street in just a few steps and was hauling the dog away and forcing him into a sitting position. Feeling terrible and horribly embarrassed he whipped around and bent down to examine the girl who was still lying on her back.

Her cheek showed a thick trail of Murphy slobber and he winced again. "Gross." He pointed at her face and she finally laughed, sitting up. "He drooled all over you. I'm so sorry."

Annemarie shook her head and laughed again. "Don't apologize. It's fine." She pulled up her shirt to wipe off her face and Devin couldn't stop his eyes from traveling to her flat stomach and tiny bellybutton. She reached over to where Murphy was looking at her excitedly and rubbed his head. "Man. You're a big brute huh?" She looked up at Devin who was sure he was staring down at her dumbly. "He looks just like the dog in the Harry Potter movies."

The simple statement and the way that she was smiling at him somehow combined to snap him back into reality. He cleared his throat and found his voice before reaching out a hand to her. "Yeah. He's an idiot. I'm really sorry."

She shook her head again and reached up, laying her small hand in his. "It's really not a problem." He pulled and she hopped to her feet lithely, dusting off her shorts. "I love dogs and he's really too cute." She squinted into the sun, shielding her eyes and looked Devin straight in the face for the first time. "Hey. We go to school together, right? I'm Annemarie."

Again it took him a minute to find his voice and he inwardly cursed himself for being so thrown off his game by a girl. "Yeah. We have English together." He said it quickly and felt way too eager for a smooth guy. "I think," he added as an afterthought, shrugging in a non-committal way. He smiled. "I'm Devin."

She smiled. "Right. Crazy Miss Schwartz's class. I **so** wasn't paying attention during that peer editing yesterday, were you?"

Devin didn't answer, but found himself staring at her shirt, where a small red stain was appearing on the white material. He pointed. "You're bleeding." He said it hollowly, mortified that his dog had caused her this much drama.

She looked down absently and turned her arm over. The back of her elbow was badly scraped and dripping blood slowly. "I guess I am. It doesn't really hurt that much though." Without thinking Devin reached out and twisted her other arm, revealing a similar wound.

"Oh my God. This is so embarrassing." He looked over his shoulder where Murphy had laid down on the cement and started eating grass. "I can't believe he knocked you over."

She shoved him gently and he felt his heart thud several times in his chest. "It's totally okay. It's barely bleeding. I'm really not upset about it."

Devin eyed her for a long moment, searching for any trace of annoyance or anger in her chocolate eyes. When he found none he smiled, regaining a bit of the confidence he normally possessed. He pointed across the street. "Look, that's my house right over there. Why don't you come over and let me get you some antibiotic and band-aids for your elbows."

She craned her neck to see up the long driveway and then looked back at him. "You live **here**?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. C'mon. I'd feel a lot better if you let me take care of those cuts."

Laughing as he tried to pull Murphy into a standing position she shrugged back. "Sure, why not?"

**

* * *

Author Note: So I totally suck for being absent for what feels like months. Has it been that long? To all of my avid readers, thanks for being so patient. I've had some crazy things going on and in all the drama Beau and Charlie and Devin seemed to take a hiatus from my mind. I don't know how persistent they will be just now or how often I will have time to sit down and let them out, but I know that I'm glad to have them back and I hope you stick with me!**


	20. Hurry Back

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"Oh, ow!" Annemarie sucked in a quick breath and let it hiss back out through her teeth as Devin carefully applied Bactine to her scraped elbow. She looked over her shoulder to where he was touching her arm and at the movement Devin glanced up and realized how close together their heads were. 

"Sorry." He paused and grimaced at her. "Hurt pretty bad?"

Shaking her hair back over her shoulder in what Devin would describe, if he were ever to describe it, as looking like a waterfall, she smiled and flexed her muscles. "Nah. I'm tough." She sized him up. "Probably not hockey-player tough, but tough." He slid back from the counter where she was sitting and reached into the junk drawer for a band-aide.

"What exactly is 'hockey-player tough?'"

She shrugged and tried in vain to blow cool air on her burning elbow. "I don't know. That sport is just…" she scrunched her face up, "**violent**. I don't know how you do it." She tried to blow on the skin again but it was too hard to reach.

Devin ran a hand through his hair and let his jaw drop in mock hurt. "Violent? **Violent**?"

Watching him carefully blow on her elbow for her, Annemarie smiled at the top of his head. He affixed the bandage gently over the scrape as she spoke. "You guys beat the crap out of each other the whole time during your games. Just look at the pads you have to wear."

Leaning back against the counter Devin crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. "You don't know a thing about hockey, do you?"

She grinned, showing a mouth of perfectly white and perfectly adorable teeth. "Guilty as charged." Now she crossed her arms, mimicking him. "And I bet you don't know a thing about musical theatre."

He stuck out his arms, wrists together. "Cuff me, officer."

"What are we doing? Cops and robbers role-play in here?" Beau stood in the kitchen door, one hip against the door jam and one hip supporting a wiggling Riley. Seeing the confused look on the girl's face and the red creeping up Devin's cheeks she rolled her eyes. "Oh, God. Now I'm **that** embarrassing parent. I didn't mean that in the inappropriate way it sounded." Devin's eyes widened the more that Beau talked. "In fact I didn't mean **anything** by it. I," she narrowed her eyes at the Bactine and band-aids. "Did someone get hurt?"

Devin laughed now, as did Annemarie. "That's some nice rambling you're doing there, Beau." He pointed over at the girl who seemed to suddenly realize she was perched on a counter and hopped off. "Beau, this is Annemarie. We go to the same school and we just ran into each other outside." He pointed at Murphy where he lay on the floor, not looking the least bit sorry for his earlier antics. "Or more accurately, Murphy ran into her and knocked her down."

"Oh dear." Beau looked down at the dog who was now snoring loudly and then back up at the pretty girl who was smiling at her. "I am so sorry…Annemarie, was it?" She stepped forward and while hefting the baby higher on her hip stuck out her right hand.

Annemarie reached out and shook Beau's hand firmly. "It's really not a problem Mrs. Conway. I'm totally fine." Beau raised her eyes at being called Mrs. Conway and was going to point out that she now felt very old, but the girl was already poking Riley gently in the belly and cooing at the little girl.

"What a beautiful baby!" Riley reached out her arms and let her upper body fall forward heavily, forcing Beau to hand her daughter to Annemarie, who proceeded to nuzzle a pink chunky cheek and laugh. "What a cutie you are!" Riley, for her part, instantly settled down and stared wide-eyed at Annemarie's striking blue eyes.

Riley, Devin thought, was certainly not the first one that day to get caught up in those eyes.

* * *

When Charlie came home he was extremely surprised to find Devin perched on the edge of the couch in the living room with a girl sitting next to him. There were two surprising things about the scenario, really, and neither one was the couch. Devin and the couch were quite well acquainted with each other. 

The first interesting thing was that Devin was 'perched' on the couch. Usually, more accurate terms would be 'sprawled,' 'draped,' or even 'lounging.' Now he was sitting on the edge, his eyes wide, his smile brilliant, and gesturing towards the television. The second surprising thing, of course, was the girl. Probably the reason for the brilliant smile, Charlie surmised.

"See! I don't understand that!" The girl had just popped forward in her seat, her eyes on Devin and her hand shaking at the screen. "Why is he getting in trouble?"

Charlie looked at the screen and saw a hockey player, one he knew well, being escorted into the penalty box.

Devin shrugged. "He knocked the other player down."

The pretty girl shrugged right back and Charlie liked her instantly. "So? They've all been knocking each other down. I thought that was allowed."

Charlie, surprised that Devin had managed to work up the nerve to invite the girl over, stepped inside the door. "It's not allowed because he hooked him…and from behind." He paused. "You can't grab people with your stick like that." He angled his gaze over to Devin, who grinned wildly behind the girl's back.

"Charlie is just annoyed because that's him getting hooked by his friend Cole – who also happens to be my adopted godfather." Devin pointed at the girl. "Charlie, this is Annemarie. Annemarie, this is Charlie – Beau's husband."

She unfurled her long legs and stood up with a big smile. She stuck out her hand. "Lucky man. Your wife is a trip, Mr. Conway."

Charlie grimaced. "Charlie. Please. And I'm sure Beau would die if you called her Mrs. Conway." He took Annemarie's hand and shook it. "And that's the perfect way to describe her, actually…a trip. Nice to meet you, Annemarie." He looked back at the screen. "And yes, I'm still annoyed at Cole. He just did that to be a pain in my butt. He's such a child." But Annemarie noticed that he was smiling with affection.

"And being a child is different from you how, Charlie?" Beau was lounged in the doorway, the twins apparently down for naps. She looked from her husband to their guest with an eyebrow raised. "Don't let my husband fool you, Annemarie. He is still very much a teenage boy at heart."

Charlie opened his mouth to issue a well planned retort, but was cut off by the girl's gasp. They all looked at her and she glanced up from her watch, smiling sheepishly. "I told my mom I was just going for a run. She's going to be freaking out by now." She looked apologetically at Devin. "Maybe we could watch a game on TV some night and you could keep trying to make me less hockey stupid." She started towards the hallway. "Beau, Charlie, it was very nice meeting you both. Sorry I have to run out so abruptly."

Devin sidled between his guardians, one eye on Annemarie as she made her way to the front door, the other glancing at Charlie for approval. Beau heard Charlie whisper something to the teenager before the latter hustled to catch up with his new friend.

At the door Annemarie paused in the threshold to smile at Devin. "Hey, it was really nice finally meeting you today." She pressed her lips together into a thin line, a blush of color rising in her cheeks. "Sorry I didn't take the time to talk to you in class before."

Devin shrugged, his eye kind. "It's a big school. I'm just sorry it took you sustaining bodily injury to get a chance to talk to you." He looked up at the dark sky. "It's getting late. Do you want me to give you a ride home?"

She waved a hand absently. "Nah. It will only take me about ten minutes if I really push it. How about I give you a call, though, to let you know I made it home okay?"

"That will definitely work."

She threw him a radiant smile and was already starting a gentle jog down the front walk when Devin summoned up some newfound courage and called out to her. "Hey! Were you serious about watching a game sometime?"

She turned, trotting in place, her hair bouncing on her shoulders. "Of course I was."

He stuck a hand in his pocket, feigning casualness. "How about seeing one in person? Charlie has a game Saturday night." He felt his heart stop when she only looked at him. He took a deep breath. "I could pick you up at, like, six and we could grab some dinner before."

She continued looking at him, still keeping her pace. Finally, a huge smile spread across her lips. "It's a date!" She turned on a dime and waved over her shoulder. "See you in class, Devin!"

Grinning at himself, Devin closed the door with the plan of IM'ing Kennedy and proving once and for all that he wasn't a loser with the ladies. I mean, _c'mon. Annemarie Forsell!_ He was worried that he would stop breathing at just the thought of taking her out on Saturday night.

Devin was stopped in his tracks by Beau and Charlie standing directly behind him, both of them grinning like idiots. "I like her," Charlie declared. He gave Devin a nudge. "She's cute **and** she shows hockey liking potential. Pretty much the only two acceptable qualities in a girl."

Beau rolled her eyes. "She **is** cute, and she **might** like hockey. But what about intelligence, wit, optimism?" Receiving only blank stares from her husband and son she groaned. "**I** like her because she used the word abruptly."

Charlie and Devin continued to stare at her. Turning, Beau stomped away. "What? I'm a nerd. Deal with it."

* * *

Cole sat in the car in from of Darby's house. _Since when do I get nervous over a woman?_ He looked down at his watch, knowing he was five minutes late, and annoyed with himself for it. It had been a month since seeing her and he had found it to be true that absence had made his heart fonder…or obsessive. Obsessive over seeing her again. So obsessive, in fact, that now he was faced with the actual prospect of seeing her, he felt sick and excited all at the same time. 

Lying on the console of his car, his cell phone began ringing. He was about to silence it and stick it in his pocket when he noticed 'Conway' on the digital read-out. He flipped open the phone. "Hey, Beau. I'm glad it's you. I need one of your patented, 'have some balls, Procida' pep-talks."

"Sorry buddy. You'll have to find your balls on your own. It's Charlie."

Cole screwed up his face. "Well, crap. What good are you, then?"

"Nice," Charlie snorted. "Thanks for the love, man." He paused. "What do you need courage so bad for?"

Cole pouted, wishing harder for Charlie to suddenly morph into his much better half. "Never mind. What do you want?"

Charlie laughed. "Geez. You're a real master of phone etiquette, aren't you, Procida?"

In his car, Cole looked at his watch, cursed softly, and then glanced up at Darby's house. He saw her silhouette in the gauzy curtains, probably looking out into the street, wondering where he was. Just the outline of her body was enough to have his palms sweating. "Conway, what do you want already? I'm late!"

"Well, fine. If you don't want to chit chat with your old college buddy…" The pout in his voice was evident and Cole rolled his eyes again. "Beau told me to call you, thank you very much. She thought you might want to know some interesting information about your godson."

Cole cocked his head. "Devin?"

Charlie sighed. "What, you have godsons all over the continental US? **Yes**, Devin. Apparently all of your advice about girls has finally paid off. He has a date this week." He paused for dramatic effect. "We found him flirting with her, explaining hockey to her. Beau thought the part of the story you would find most flattering was that the taped game he was using was the one last month where you so rudely and illegally hooked me."

"Oh good Christ, Conway. Will you let that go?" He smiled though, feeling a warmth spread across his heart. Devin was one hell of a kid. "So Devin's got himself a girl, huh? It's about damn time. I was worried your uselessness with women was wearing off on him."

Charlie laughed. "Hey. I snagged Beau just fine on my own, remember? And yes, Devin has himself a girl. Apparently one of the most popular girls in school."

There was a long pause while Cole's mind worked. _If Devin, a shy teenager doomed to Charlie's advice, can ask out one of the most popular girls in school, I, Cole Procida, ladies' man extraordinaire, can certain work up the courage to walk up to the door of a woman I have been out with twice. And who I have been emailing with for a month._ "Charlie, that's great about Devin. I've got to go. Bye." And then he hung up on his friend.

On his end, Charlie sat in silence until the phone beeped, confirming that he had been hung up on. He slammed the phone onto the receiver, yelling into the other room. "Beau, next time you have some important information to pass along to that jackass Cole, you call him!"

* * *

"I am all kinds of wiped out." Adam dropped onto the bed, shrugging out of his black suit coat. "The press conference this afternoon and then that awards dinner tonight." He kicked off his shoes and frowned over his shoulder at Kimball, massaging his cheeks. "My face hurts from smiling so much." 

Across the room she stepped out of her black stiletto pointy-toed heels and padded over to him in her emerald green dress. "That's what you get for starting your own charity, Mr. Philanthropist."

He rolled his blue eyes at her and then smiled. "I wish you would stop calling me that."

She slid into a pair of pale blue pajama bottoms and a matching tank top and dropped onto the bed beside him, gently rubbing his shoulders as he loosened his blood red tie. "You love it, Adam. You can't fool me." When he rolled his eyes again she smiled sweetly. "I'm just really proud of you." She gave his shoulders a final squeeze. "You'll be able to affect a lot of people with this, you know that, right?"

He stood up, stretching his arms high over his head and bending until his back cracked. Sighing contentedly he shrugged. "That's the idea, right?" He winked at her and she couldn't help but smile foolishly at him. He was only wearing his suit slacks now, and Kimball felt her stomach twist at the sign of him in bare feet and bare chest. He turned to walk out into the living room.

"Where are you going, Adam? I'm cold and I was counting on you to warm me up."

He smiled at her, a little hint of lust behind his eyes, and thought again how much he loved her. "I just want to double check the door locks."

Grinning wickedly she slipped under the covers. "Hurry back."

* * *

"So, was that you sitting in that car out there?" Darby looked past Cole, indicating the Toureg that her interpreter had just spoken of. 

Cole grinned down at his feet and tried not to look too embarrassed, despite the blush creeping up his cheeks. "Yeah, that was me."

"I thought I was being stalked."

He looked up, gaining back some confidence. "Maybe you are."

She smiled, signing quickly. "You are a huge dork."

His grin grew wider. "Well, that may be true, but I'm a huge dork with a present for you."

Darby clapped her hands together twice and then held them out. "I love presents. Hand it over."

Cole looked at her reproachfully and then indicated the door frame she was currently blocking. He shot an annoyed look at the man speaking for her. "I get here, haven't seen her in a month, and she doesn't even say hello. Calls me a dork and then demands a present." He looked at her and then back to Rick. "She's a real pain in the ass, huh?"

Rick had continued signing, despite the fact that Cole was speaking to him and not Darby. Now she had her mouth open in mock outrage. She reached out and gave Cole a playful shove in the chest. "Well, now I'm **definitely** not inviting you in." She pointed briefly at her companion. "And stop talking to him and talk to me."

Cole just grinned. "Fine. If you don't want me to talk to him…" He looked over at Rick, raised his hands in the air and spoke. As he was talking out loud he moved his hands to accompany the words with the appropriate sign language. "Take a hike, Rick. I've got it from here."

Both Darby and Mark stood in silence, staring at Cole, who was afraid for one brief moment that he had mis-signed something. He spoke, again his hands mirroring the words from his mouth. "What? Did I sign it wrong?"

In one leap Darby was in his arms squeezing him so tightly that he could barely breathe. He set her down gently and she immediately raised her hands and started signing furiously. Still caught off guard, Rick didn't translate. She was going too fast for Cole and he felt all that he had learned over the past month jumbling in his brain. He slid a hand down his right arm, making the sign which asked her to slow down.

"Whoa there. Slow down. I'm still new at this." Before she could speak again, he looked over at Rick. "Really, man. Take a hike. I think we're good."

**

* * *

Back now…promise. Really! I moved, things have been nuts, my kitten ran away, I took a job that I hated…am quitting a job that I hate, and am looking for new jobs. All excuses, but none particularly good. Really, the truth of the matter was that Devin, Annemarie, Cole, and Banks stubbornly refused to give me any good ideas. Didn't help that Showtime and HBO have been playing all three Ducks movies with ridiculous frequency. **

**To all of you who have religiously reviewed, and especially to the couple of you who read both stories all the way through recently, thank you for being so dedicated. I'll try my hardest to be better and get back to updating frequently enough that I can do individual responses to your reviews. Thanks again, guys!**


	21. Oh God

Disclaimer - I do not own the. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Sitting at dinner, Darby smiled over at Cole. "This is very impressive." She gestured at the spread laid out between them on a Pennington State fleece blanket. "I wouldn't have figured you for the picnic type." She winked. "Very unexpected."

He had been watching her hands closely and mimicked a few of her signs. "Well, I **am** what you would call a very impressive guy."

Picking up a piece of homemade bruschetta – one of her favorites – she took a bite and considered. "So are you going to tell me how you managed to learn sign-language in a month or do I have to beat it out of you?" In the last thirty minutes she had schooled herself to keep to a pace that Cole could read. Watching him sign slowly now she smiled at the intense concentration on his face.

"Well, you know that I was out doing that promotional stuff and mostly the camp, right?"

She smiled sweetly at him. "The one for terminally ill kids, right?"

He nodded, completely unimpressed with himself and unaware of just how impressed she was. "Yeah. So I did all that, and then at night I had a tutor that I worked with for a few hours. I learned a lot because it was such an intensive course, but he said that I would get a lot better and more comfortable the more that I practiced with you." And it already **was** getting easier, he realized. He was still having to think about each sign, but the more they spoke, the more they were alone together, the more the difficulty of it faded into the background.

Darby cocked her head and tightened her thick dark ponytail absently. "So you're assuming I'll practice with you."

"You already are, smartass." He had to spell out the last word and she kicked him with a bare foot in response.

"How often did you see this tutor, because you are awfully good for someone who has only been signing for a month?"

Cole shrugged, suddenly feeling very foolish. "A lot, I guess."

She nudged him again. "How much is a lot? Because right now you have me thinking you're some kind of prodigy."

This time he didn't look at her. Couldn't – afraid of the laughter he might see on her face. "Seven days a week, five hours a day."

Both of her raven colored eyebrows shot up in surprise. "For the whole month?" Cole only nodded. Darby knew that if she had been able to speak she wouldn't have been able to muster more than a whisper. "Why?"

Now Cole did look directly at her. This was the question he had anticipated her asking, but somehow his pre-practiced answer suddenly seemed, well, woefully inadequate. _How do you put into words that you just fell compelled to change your life for someone? More importantly, how do you put it into words after only a month and half of knowing someone, mostly through email, without sounding ridiculous?_ "I wanted to be able to talk to you. I **needed** to be able to talk to you." He paused, making sure to form the words very carefully, so that he got across the meaning. "Just you. No middle man. No translator." He looked up for a moment, trying to think of the perfect words. "There's something about you that has me…" Cole breathed in deep and stared into her eyes, hoping he didn't see her falter. "I just needed to talk to you. **Just** you."

Darby climbed gently over the food on the blanket, her eyes locked on Cole's, and for the second time that night she made her way confidently into his arms. Cole, for his part, didn't know what to do with himself after laying his emotions so bare for a girl he had known for so short a time. He wanted desperately to put his hands on her. It would be for the first time really. He couldn't believe he felt like this and hadn't even kissed her.

Nerves had never made him so unsure of what to do with physical proximity, so he fidgeted with his hands, raising them up for a moment, about to sign something, and then putting them back down on the ground, bracing himself on either side of his body.

Darby watched the emotions flickering over Cole's face and the restless movements of his hands in amusement. She had a strong suspicion that this was not the normal timeline of events when Cole was with a woman. She felt her heart beating faster knowing that she was somehow special. She took a long slow breath and tried to tear her eyes from his lips, which were parted slightly. She moved her gaze up to meet his eyes and saw that **he** was focused on **her** mouth. Knowing that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him was a powerful aphrodisiac. Very slowly she ran her hands from his belly up to his chest and then leaned back slowly, feeling her own breath catch in her lungs.

Darby raised her hands between them. "You doing this…it's the most amazing thing that anyone has ever done for me." Cole didn't say anything, but she saw his trademark confidence begin to find its way back into his eyes. "I feel like I've known you for much longer than a month, Cole."

He grinned now. "I feel like I know you much better than predominately through email." He closed his mouth, bit his lip in a rare showing of nerves, and tilted his head forward until his forehead was resting against hers. "I want to kiss you now."

Her answer was as simple as tilting her head slightly, letting her lips brush softly against his. After just a teasing of contact, she pulled back and smiled shyly at him.

Cole was staring at her hungrily. The tiniest taste of her was coursing through him and he was desperate for more. He finally lifted his hands from the blanket and ran them gently up her arms, watching as goose bumps formed on her skin. He slid one hand behind her neck, into the wispy hairs that had escaped her rubber band and after one last long look into her eyes pulled her forcibly against him, feeling his body mold to hers, and drinking in every bit of her.

* * *

"I'm proud of you, Adam, you know that, right?" Shivering at the cool air of the bedroom, Kimball snuggled back against him, loving the feel of her bare shoulders against his skin.

She felt him smile against her. "I **did** know that. But if I hadn't, I'm pretty sure I would have gotten the idea from the thirty-seven times you've told me tonight." He grunted when she dug her elbow back into his stomach, and then sobered. "It means a lot that you feel that way. I wouldn't enjoy doing all these things if you weren't there with me, you know that, right?

Now it was her time to smile. "I **did** know. But like you, I would have known anyway from all the times you said it tonight." She wiggled, scooting even closer to him and reaching back to pull his hand over her hip and to intertwine her fingers with his close to her belly. "I love you, Adam. Goodnight."

His voice was barely audible as he began to drift off towards sleep. "Love you too. Night, babe."

* * *

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Guy was standing at the front of the room, his heart beating way too fast and hard for someone who was so happy. He turned abruptly, squaring his shoulders to face Connie where she stood beside him. Their hands were held between them, clutching so tightly that both sets of knuckles were white. "I want it to be right."

Connie turned her head, the picture of complete and utter serenity, and smiled at him. "I'm sure, Guy. Don't **you** think it feels right?"

He looked at her for a very long moment. She stood next to him, wearing what should have been a simple outfit. A knee-length coral skirt that flared out around her knees, swaying from side to side when she walked, moved, breathed. A form fitting brown tank-top, covered discreetly with an equally fitted cardigan all in bright splashes of pink, brown, and another shade of coral. She was wearing her mother's pearls at her neck and her ears, and her hair was pulled partially up, leaving a great deal of it cascading down her back, just like Guy had liked since he was a stupid kid, just beginning to fall in love with her.

There was absolutely nothing special about the outfit, but Guy knew in his heart of hearts that there wasn't another girl in the world who could hold a candle in comparison to her and the way that she looked standing there by his side.

He glanced down at his own modest charcoal grey suit and realized that being next to her at that very moment he felt like he was wearing the most expensive tux in the world. He looked back into her eyes, smiling. "Of course it feels right. It felt right when I was twelve, if felt right three years ago." He reached one hand up to touch her face lightly. "It will **always** feel right."

Connie felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes and blinked furiously. If she started now, she would never be able to stop. She grabbed his hand where it rested on her check and linked their fingers again. "Love you, Germaine." She grinned wildly at him and then turned to face the man standing before them and nodded.

From his position on the small set of stairs, the man looked down at Guy and Connie and opened the small book he held in his hands. "Let us begin then." He looked over at his wife, where she was standing in as witness. "We are gathered here today to join these two people, Constance Moreau and Guy Germaine, in holy unity of marriage."

* * *

Kimball came out of her dreams of soft sand and Adam's hands on her kicking and not without a fight. The minute her mind crossed over into consciousness she was acutely aware of something being very wrong. The room was too dark for her to see with her eyes unadjusted, and there were no suspicious sounds to raise her alarm, but in the deepest parts of her body and soul, she knew that danger was close.

She could feel her heart pounding and the beach of her dreams had never seemed so far away. The more her instincts told her to scream, the more she tried to hold the sound in, trying to tell herself that they were in a locked room, in a building with security.

Pressing her hand over her heart, trying to dull the thudding sound it was making, she held her breath and waited for her eyes to adjust and hoping her ears could hear anything that might be approaching through the silent apartment. The only sounds she recognized were the steady in and out of Adam breathing next to her, his back in her direction, his face angled towards his night stand.

After what seemed like forever, but was in reality only three minutes, of sitting in tense and agonizing silence, Kimball began to believe that the tension of the past few months had finally caught up with her and that she was cracking up. She was just beginning to relax and was even considering crawling back under the covers when the distinctly familiar sound of a footstep seemed to come hurtling out of the darkness to assault her senses.

She reached out her hand to grab a handful of Adam's skin. He came flying awake to sit beside her and before he could curse at the pain, she had one arm around his back and the other covering his mouth. Her voice was an urgent whisper in his ear. "Someone's in the apartment." She turned his head to face hers, and in the pale light filtering in from the moon she saw the instant fear register in his eyes. But there was also a question. She leaned in close, her lips against his ear. "I'm sure of it."

* * *

Adam felt his heart trying desperately to pound its way out through his ribs. The raw fear in Kimball's eyes was enough to assure him that she had legitimately heard a person moving stealthily through their home. He saw the emotion flicker in her eyes and hoped that he wasn't projecting that same terror back at her. If he didn't reassure her, didn't protect her, who would?

He nodded very slightly once, and then when Kimball still just stared at him in the dark, a second time. She slowly dropped her hand from his mouth and immediately wrapped her arms around her body, scooting back to cower against the headboard of their bed. Adam looked at her earnestly and held one finger up to his mouth, urging her to stay silent.

As quietly as he could, he rolled over onto his hip and slid open the bottom drawer of his nightstand, trying always to keep his peripheral vision on the open bedroom door. He could hear the footsteps now and found himself angry that whoever had chosen to molest their privacy like this was so arrogant that he was getting lest secretive by the minute.

Giving the door and the open apartment beyond even more attention, he used the tips of his fingers to feel through the drawer until cool metal rubbed against his skin. His heartbeat should have slowed a bit at the feel of the gun under his hand, but something in the edge of his sight sent every bit of his reason careening over the edge of sanity.

* * *

On her side of the bed, Kimball gasped and reached out to turn on the light. If they were going to be killed in their bed, she was determined that she would die knowing who had done it. The sudden light in the room blinded the intruder as he approached the foot of the bed. Dressed mostly in black, the hulking figure, 6'3" if he was an inch, was still advancing towards her side, a large gleaming knife held high over his head.

The man stopped for only a brief instant, raising one hand to shield his eyes from the light, but Kimball could still feel his cold hard glare locked onto her body and she was unable to suppress a primal scream of fear.

* * *

When the light flashed on, Adam was temporarily blinded, but he knew that he had seen the man advancing on Kimball. He had always heard that situations like the one they were in you saw your life flash before you. He was only mildly surprised to find that the life he saw was not his own. He saw Kimball and all that she was and all that she would be. He knew in that instant, the sound of his blood rushing through his ears replaced by Kimball's terrified scream, that he would do anything to spare her life.

That thought in his mind, he rose up, turning towards the other side of the bed, leading with the gun and hoping against hope that Kimball would stay pressed back against the headboard. As his vision regained its clarity he was all too aware of the large knife arcing down towards Kimball as she cowered away with nowhere to go.

"No!"

* * *

Kimball saw the knife slicing through the air towards her and closed her eyes, wishing herself to just disappear. In her mind she tried to think of something that would make it hurt less and every image that she saw was of her and Adam together.

"No!"

She knew it was Adam's voice, but something in it sounded much more primitive. Afraid that he had been hurt, she opened her eyes and started to sit up, but a deafening sound rang through the room, drowning out everything else.

It took Kimball a long moment, frozen in time, to realize what had happened. A gunshot. When she finally came to that realization she scrambled up to her knees, turning to face the room and raising her hands in defense.

What she saw flooded her with relief and then a profound nausea that she would feel many weeks to follow.

Slumped over the bed was the intruder, his face buried in the sheets, and a large pool of blood spreading across the white 600 thread count. The butcher knife from their own kitchen was plunged into the mattress just six inches from where Kimball had been crouching away from her attacker.

Convinced that he was no longer a threat, she turned her head slowly to her right, where Adam was frozen on his knees, facing the direction of the man he had just shot. His arms were still outstretched, holding the gun exactly where it had been when he had fired. His hair was standing out in a few places from tossing and turning on his pillow and his skin was so pale that Kimball wondered he didn't pass out. His blue eyes were open wide and held a vacant stare that frightened Kimball more than she would have liked to admit.

She covered her mouth with trembling fingers and whispered his name. "Adam." He didn't flinch, didn't move, was barely even breathing. She raised her voice. "Adam."

This time his eyes winced shut and he reflexively flexed a finger near the trigger of the gun. Reaching out slowly, so as not to startle him further, Kimball touched his forearm and said his name again. "Adam," she ran her hands down to encircle his wrist, pushing down very gently. "Baby, put the gun down. It's over."

Adam lowered his hands marginally, but still had a death grip on the weapon and a dead look in his eyes. Rising up higher on her knees, her whole body shaking and threatening to give out on her, she moved close enough that she was able to move her eyes before his and frame his face with her hands. "Adam, you saved me." She forced more conviction into her tone. "You. Saved. Me."

He blinked once at that and lowered his hands even more. Kimball let out a tiny whimper. "I love you, Adam, but you're scaring me. Put the gun down, baby."

The blue eyes blinked again, three times in quick succession, and then Adam was back. He stared into her eyes, and then looked around her shoulder at the man spread across their bed. Without hesitation, the gun dropped out of his hand onto the quilt and Adam gagged.

He looked up into her eyes and Kimball was terrified to see his fill with heavy tears that instantly streamed down his cheeks. His voice was soft. "I killed someone."

Kimball ran a hand over his head. "You had to. He would have killed us."

Adam sank down, every bit of 'Adam' seeming to slip out of his body. He dropped his head to Kimball's lap. "Oh, God." And then, as she reached around him to pick up the phone and dial 9-1-1, Adam began to weep.

**

* * *

Author Note: You guys are the best and most loyal reviewers of all time. You totally make my day! I've got some ideas up my sleeve and definite plans to keep writing, but if you have any story lines you'd like to see, or even just basic ideas, I would REALLY love them. Put them in your reviews or if you're logged one, just email me! Thanks again!**

**Hockey-girl90**: How's that for a quick update! Back to back days! Ha! Thanks for sticking with me.

**Pitaqueen**: Thanks for the support. Roadblocks be damned indeed. I actually have a few storylines thought up, but if you have any good ideas, please please email. I'd love the input.

**RedLA**: Nah, I love the word 'adorable' for Cole. There's just something about him, eh? I'd love a guy like that! Thanks again for being so dedicated!

**antiIrony**: One of my most loyal readers and it means the WORLD! I'm also glad I didn't die and that I'm still able to write, no matter how jumbled and misguided it may be. You rock!

**Joank**: Is it getting redundant for me to say how much you guys rock? Thanks for the feedback. No, no luck on the kitten yet. She is coming and eating off of the porch every night at like 2am, but she spooks whenever we try to get her. Sigh.

**AdoptedThug**: I'm so glad you liked that scene! That last couple of lines are some of my favorite dialogue. Not that I am anywhere near as badass as Beau, but that last line is actually very me.

**Stehpie**: Thank you very much for reviewing when you normally don't. I'm flattered.

**SilverConlon**: Thanks! When I did the majority of the writing I did I was also on a major MD kick. Glad to be getting back to again. I love these guys!

**SleepyGoof07**: Thanks so much. I love when new readers review. These stories feel so old to me and SOOO long, that it's nice to know they are still new for someone.

**Johnny**: Glad I could be a nice surprise for you!


	22. You Have the Right

Disclaimer - I do not own the. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"You **what**?" Beau's voice had risen a notch and Devin stopped on his way out the door. He waved to get her attention and she shook her head and rolled her eyes, pulling the cordless phone away from her ear.

Devin took a few steps back into the room and furrowed his brow. "Is everything okay, Beau?" Her eyes were wide and she looked a little incredulous.

She didn't say anything for a moment, but when she finally did, one hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, her eyes narrowed and her voice dropped an octave. "Yes. Everything is fine. Except for that Guy and Connie eloped."

A huge grin spread across Devin's face. He probably would have liked Guy simply because he was Beau's best friend, but he had always felt a bit partial towards him, probably because of his gentle way and the help that he had given him as a kid just starting out in hockey. "Well, that's a good thing, right? I thought I heard you say just the other day that you were wondering when he was finally going to bite the bullet and give her the ring he's been carrying around."

There was a long pause in which Beau only glared at him and Devin began to seriously re-think his decision to speak at all. The grin faded from his face and he had the urge to ask her why she looked so angry, but he somehow knew that he should just keep his mouth shut.

Finally, she shrugged and tried to feign indifference. "I'm not mad that they got married. It's about damn time. I mad that they ran off and got married without telling anyone."

"Ah." Devin got it now. She wasn't mad that they didn't tell anyone. She was mad that Guy hadn't told **her**. Of course she would want to be at her best-friend's wedding. _Time to go._ "Right, uh. Got it. I should…" he pointed at the door, fearing his proximity would warrant her wrath when she got off the phone.

Beau smiled a little now and shooed him away. "Right. Sorry. Go ahead, kiddo. Have a great time with Annemarie." She watched as Devin slunk out of the door and then took a long deep breath. She slowly raised the phone to her ear and tried to keep her voice at a reasonable volume. "First Guy, congratulations. I figure I better say that before I say something else I may or may not feel bad about later. I really truly am happy for you and Connie. Now…why in the hell didn't you tell me sooner…"

As she listened to Guy rush through a litany of words almost faster than she could understand, Charlie appeared in the doorway. She was vaguely aware of the sound of the twins giggling in the playroom upstairs, so she knew they were alright, but the look on Charlie's face had her immediately on edge. "Guy, hang on a minute." She looked at her husband, his face pale, and his cell phone hanging loosely in his hand. "Charlie? What is it?"

At Beau's voice Charlie felt the life go out of his body and he let himself sit down heavily on the ottoman where her feet were resting. "It's Banks."

On the other end of the phone the timbre of Guy's voice changed. "Did he say something about Adam? What's going on?"

Beau felt her heart rate quicken and a solid knot form in the pit of her stomach. Charlie wasn't prone to exaggeration and the tone of his voice gave her an urgent sense of foreboding. "What is it, Charlie?"

Shaking his head, he dropped it into his hands, twisting his fingers through his curly hair and pulled it gently. "He killed someone."

* * *

"I want to see Adam, please." Kimball was pacing the living room floor like a panther stalking its pretty, and she could feel her temper rising with each passing minute. She came to a halt a mere six inches in front of the uniformed officer standing just inside their front door. "I'd like to see my boyfriend. **Now**." When he only stared at her a little uncomfortably, she dropped her arms down by her side. "Office, it's been **hours**. I want to make sure he's okay."

The office was saved from having to respond by Detective Manning, who opened the door marginally and slid in through the opening. Kimball rounded on him immediately. "Detective, I need to see Adam."

He held up his hand and came all the way into the condo. "Miss McGillicuddy, you're going to have to wait a bit longer. He's still finishing up his statement." He gestured to the couch. "Please, sit down. I actually have a few more questions to ask you."

Sighing deeply and pulling her wrap sweater tighter around her body, she glanced into the bedroom and felt her stomach drop out from under her, a harsh reminder of the night's events. The intruder's body had already been taken away, but even from all the way across two rooms she could still see the bright red plume of blood and smell the acrid stench of gunpowder.

"What other questions could you have for me? I already told you what happened. And also, couldn't we talk to Detective Davis? He's the one who has been working on my stalking case. I'd really feel much more comfortable with him."

He nodded, sitting down in an antique rocking chair across from her, his wide shoulders dwarfing the piece of furniture. He was looking down at a notepad. "Yes ma'am you did already give your statement, but after speaking with Mr. Banks there is still one issue I'd like to clarify. And on the issue of Detective Davis, I'm afraid he already caught another case tonight that has him all tied up."

Kimball just stared at him, finally raising her eyebrows. "What do you need to ask me?"

"Well, it concerns the actual moment that Mr. Banks fired his weapon." He underlined something twice in his notes and then looked directly at her. "The man who was allegedly trying to stab you…" Kimball interrupted.

"There is nothing **alleged** about it, sir. You said yourself that this was the man who had been stalking me and making threats on my life. I have no doubt in my mind that he was **actually** trying to stab me."

Davis nodded. "Okay then. The man who was trying to stab you…did the knife hit the bed before or after Mr. Banks fired the gun?"

Kimball looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "Everything happened so fast. I looked up, saw the knife coming down towards me and…" She trailed off, closing her eyes to unwillingly picture it all again. Finally she opened her eyelids and finished grimly. "I was scared, turned away, heard the gunshot, and then opened my eyes and looked over. The man was face-down on the bed and the knife was in the mattress beside me. I don't know the actual point when it ended up there." Manning stared at her and something in his gaze had her stomach turning over violently. "Sir, I'd really like to see Adam now, please."

He stood up, slipping his notebook back into the pocket of his sport coat. "I'm afraid that's not going to be possible at this time." He turned and walked briskly towards the door, mouthing something to the office there, and trying to get away quickly. Kimball grabbed his shoulder, her pale cheeks growing alarmingly red.

"What do you mean 'not possible'?" She looked at him a little wildly. "**Where is my boyfriend?**"

"Ma'am, you'll need to find somewhere else to stay tonight. This is officially a closed crime scene."

* * *

"Adam Banks, you are under arrest for 3rd degree murder of the man who entered your home this evening. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. If you cannot afford and attorney, one will be appointed for you before a questioning if you wish. Do you understand your rights as I have just explained them to you?"

"Yes." Everything went suddenly surreal as Adam felt his hands being drawn behind his back and the cool hard metal of the handcuffs encircling his wrists. He had an insane thought that it felt a little like his hockey gloves when he first put them on after a few days of not wearing them. Cold and imposing.

When the detective led him to a nearby squad car, his heart suddenly started pounding forcibly and he craned his neck to look back up at his building. He stopped walking and refused to bend his head down to slide into the vehicle. "What about Kimball?"

The man looked at him. "Excuse me?"

Adam had to swallow hard and force the words to form. "My girlfriend. She's not being arrested, is she?"

He found himself on the receiving end of a long insufferable stare. "Your girlfriend didn't kill anyone tonight, Mr. Banks. So no, she is not being arrested."

Hearing those words 'didn't kill anyone tonight,' Adam felt something oily slithering in his guts. _No, I killed someone tonight._ He double over at the waist and retched several times before finally vomiting on his own shoes. Taking several deep breaths, but not feeling any better…in fact, he wasn't feeling much at all…Adam wiped his mouth on his shoulder and again addressed Detective Manning.

"Will someone help her find somewhere to stay tonight? She needs to call her friends. I don't want her to be alone. She **can't** be alone!" The last bit was just barely a shout as Adam was forced into the car and the door slammed. As they began to slowly move away from the curb Adam was consumed with worry for the only women he had ever really loved.

* * *

"Fuck." Charlie had just finished relating everything that Kimball had hysterically related to him over the phone and 'fuck' was the only appropriate word he could think to end with. He stared down at the floor for a very long time, trying to wrap his head around the whole thing. Someone had tried to kill Kimball. Would probably have tried to kill Adam too, if he'd had the chance. Adam shot the man and now Adam was arrested and being charged with murder for protecting the woman he loved. It was something Charlie would not have thought twice about doing himself.

Thinking of someone trying to hurt Beau and then he himself getting in trouble for protecting her, he looked up at his wife. She was sitting forward on the couch, the cordless phone to her ear, Guy still on the line to hear the story as well. Her face was very pale and she covered her open mouth with her free hand. "Jesus. What are we going to do? What happens next?"

On the other end of the phone, Guy spoke, so she set the receiver down and pressed the button for the speaker phone. "Is Kimball alright? Where is she staying tonight?"

Charlie dropped his head into his hands again. "She's staying with her friend Julia. She's not allowed back into the apartment."

Beau scoffed. "As if she'd want to be in there. How did she sound?"

Charlie looked at her, face ashen. "To be honest, completely frenzied. She wasn't even forming complete sentences. And I don't think it was really that someone had tried to kill her. She's frantic about Adam. She kept saying things about him 'sitting in a cold cell' and then she would freak out again."

"Jesus." Guy's voice was raspy with emotion and they heard him saying something to Connie.

Beau sat in silence again, but Charlie could tell that she was deeply affected by the image of Adam sitting alone in a cell. They all knew him well enough to know that he would be feeling his actions more deeply than most would. While he would have done it again if it meant saving Kimball, he would be obsessing over the fact that he had taken a man's life to do it.

Beau's eyes were huge and filled rapidly with heavy tears, which slid slowly down her cheeks. "God, he must be terrified."

Guy broke back in, afraid he would lose his own emotions if Beau continued to speak in her shaky voice. "What can we do, Charlie? I mean, there has to be something we can do, right?"

Charlie reached out his hand, squeezing Beau's knee and trying to look into her eyes reassuringly, but he knew he must look as shaken as she did. "I told Kimball I would take care of calling his publicist, his coach, and the Duck's publicist. They're going to have to start trying to keep a lid on this now…if it isn't already all over the news out there." He thought for a long moment. "Guy, can you call Coach Bombay? This isn't really his area, but I'm sure he has the connections to find a good criminal lawyer in California. Wake him up if you have to. And then have him wake someone else up. We need to get Banks some help."

**

* * *

Johnny: Sorry, the traumatizing of Adam is necessary if I'm going to keep myself interested!**

**Hockey-girl90**: Another chapter "soon" and just for you!

**Joank**: I've been learning sign-language of late for my old job and it is slow going. The girl that is teaching us, though, said that if you do it really intensively every day for a long time you can pick it up really quickly. As for the kitten, she is very people friendly, but a storm we had the night after she got out really spooked her. She's been hanging around to eat, but only when no one is awake. BUT…tonight another storm spooked her enough to make her want to come back in. So, I saw her eating, went outside, she hid, but then came back out! She's back in the house and demanding some serious attention. YAY!

**RedLA**: Thanks for all the great feedback. Yeah, I wasn't sure about Adam and the gun, but I'll have him explain it some more later. He's not much on the talking right now.

**joshysgirl**: Well now, my dear, flattery will get you everywhere! Haha Really, thank you. I think "I even like the parts without Charlie" is like the ultimate compliment. I got into writing all of this for Beau and Charlie because I was just obsessed with them and I LOVE writing their witty banter, but there is only so much to do with them. So I'm glad you all enjoy the supporting cast of characters, but most especially Cole and Devin.

**SleepyGoof07**: Thanks. I was pretty pleased with this chapter, but was worried the Guy/Con marriage thing was maybe to short. I have more coming on that, but for some reason I have a really hard time writing her. Any ideas where you'd like it to go?


	23. Taking it Slow

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"Plain and simple, Adam, it was self-defense. I am absolutely sure that this will get thrown out quickly and with relatively little fuss. You will, of course, have to testify. As will Ms. McGillicuddy." 

Adam looked up at the man sitting across from him and suppressed the urge to scream. It was the third time that his new lawyer, Ronnie Senate, had trivialized the situation using terms like 'little fuss' or 'shouldn't be an issue.' He knew, somewhere deep down, that what he had done had been necessary, but that didn't negate the fact that he had taken someone's life. Ever since that moment he had felt like he was going through life in a shroud of misery. Everything seemed dulled and inconsequential.

Taking a deep breath he sighed and then nodded. "I understand. Just let us know what we need to do."

Mr. Senate eyed him for a long moment before finally steepling his fingers together on the table and leaning forward. "Mr. Banks, the only think you can really do to help at this point is to try to act like you don't feel guilty of committing a crime." Adam looked up at him and the lawyer was surprised by how vacant they looked. "I know you understand that what you did was both necessary and very much legal. It may not have been pleasant, but if a judge is going to dismiss this before it goes before a jury you're going to have to get up on that stand and speak with conviction that you felt justified in what you did." Again, Adam jusy stared at him and said nothing. "Do you understand?"

Adam only nodded. "Yes sir. I understand." But he didn't sound like he did. He sounded like he hated himself. Worse yet, he sounded as if he didn't believe in himself.

Senate stood up. "Alright, then. I will see you in court next week." He turned to walk out of the door, giving a grim smile to Kimball when she met him in the front hallway. She wrung her hands and gave him a questioning look. His response was more a plea than anything else. "Miss McGillicuddy…" he looked hard at her. "Kimball, you **have** to talk to him. If he gets on the stand looking and acting like that, he's going to make himself look guilty of something that isn't even a crime."

Kimball gave a long sigh and then shoved her hands helplessly into the pockets of her jeans. "I don't know what to say to him, Ronnie. He's been like that since the minute he posted bail. Probably since even before that. I've tried to talk to him, but it's all one word responses and vacant looks." She tried to hold back the tears she felt forming. This was not the person she needed to be crying to. "He's not hearing me. Or seeing me for that matter. I don't know what difference I can make."

The man looked at her for a long minute before hefting his briefcase a little higher. Finally he signed with a slight motion of his shoulders. "Just talk to him. For his sake."

* * *

"You're being left alone with twin babies?" Annemarie's voice was skeptical as she sat down at Devin's desk chair and eyed him where he laid on the bed. "**Really**?" 

Devin laughed, laying back and putting one arm behind his head. He smiled at her with confidence. "Hey, have a little faith. I am a very responsible seventeen-year-old, thank you very much. I'm trustworthy." He said the last bit like it was a badge of honor and Annemarie had to laugh.

"Alright, alright. I'll admit you're trustworthy. You're certainly going to have your hands full, though." She paused, crinkling her brow. "What about school?"

"I'm dropping out to become a full time nanny. Very manly, don't you think?"

She laughed again and took a sip of her drink before crossing her legs underneath her on the leather seat. "You're a riot, Devin," she said sarcastically. "Seriously, though. Beau and Charlie are going to be gone for a week. They can't be okay with you missing school for that many days."

He let out a long sign. "Sadly, you're right. They didn't want me missing school so, I've got the twins Friday night, Saturday, and most of Sunday. Then my grandmother is flying in from North Carolina and staying for the rest of the week." He rolled over onto his side, propping his head on his hand and rolling his eyes. "Plus, you ought to see the list of instructions that Beau is putting together. There are detailed times and descriptions of activities to take place. I think she probably even scheduled time for the kids to go to the bathroom, and then of course for me to change the diapers."

Although Annemarie wouldn't have been surprised if that was actually true she laughed. "She's probably just trying to make it as easy on you as possible. Babies are a lot of work, you know. And two is just double the trouble." She peeled her legs out from under her and Devin couldn't help but look down at the long expanse of skin revealed by her khaki shorts. She smiled as she sat down against his legs on his bed. "You may be all confident now, but I predict that you'll be in tears by noon on Saturday."

Devin kicked her gently in the back with his foot. It was then that Beau happened by his room and poked her head in the door and smiled. "I predicted the same thing, Annemarie, but Devin's Mr. Confident about this whole thing." She winked at the girl. "I'll let you be the first to say 'I told you so' when the time is right."

Annemarie laughed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Sounds like a plan." She sobered though, and looked at Beau grimly. "I was very sorry to hear about you and Charlie's friend being in such a bad situation. I really hope everything works out."

Beau smiled sadly at her, impressed with the girl and her maturity, thankful again that Devin had found her…or that Murphy had. "Thanks, kiddo. We hope so, too." Beau looked at the floor for a minute and Devin was alarmed to see tears beginning to form in her eyes. But just as quickly as they appeared, Beau blinked her eyes, shook her head once, and smiled back at them. "Aren't you two supposed to be studying for that Spanish final exam?"

Devin grinned. "Si."

Looking resigned Annemarie bent over and drug a textbook out of her book bag. "You're right. We probably should get started on this or both of us are going to flunk and then we won't be allowed to go on the Spain trip."

With a big sigh Devin sat up. "Please. **A** – **you** don't ever flunk anything. **B** – we've already paid for the Spain trip, so I'm sure they aren't going to tell anyone they can't go. Deep breaths, Annemarie." He looked up at Beau. "She's as neurotic about her grades as Charlie says you were."

Beau narrowed her eyes. "Just because Charlie was a slacker…" She pointed at Devin. "**Study**." As she turned and walked down the hall, she smiled at the thought of Annemarie in her son's life. She was smart, she was polite, she was a good person, and most of all, she just seemed to make Devin happy.

The two of them had been spending time almost every day together since their first date two weeks prior and Beau had seen them on more than one occasion holding hands chastely. She wasn't sure, but had a strong feeling that they hadn't kissed yet. It was just something about the way that Devin kept eyeing the girl's lips. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, but she knew that Devin was a good kid, and she herself had been dating seriously at that point, so she trusted that he would make good judgment calls when it came to physicality with a girl. If nothing else, she was thrilled to know that he and Annemarie were taking it slow.

Back in Devin's room, Annemarie was leaned back against his legs, her book propped open on her lap. "Alright, Dev. Conjugate the word juegar in the past tense."

He pulled the red pillow out from under his head and groaning, pulled it down over his face. He spoke through the fabric, his voice muffled. "I hate the past tense. Can't I just speak in present tense the whole time we're in Spain? I'm going to sound like an idiot if I try to use anything else."

Reaching up, Annemarie pulled the pillow off of him, hit him with it, and then tossed it to the floor. "You'll look like a bigger idiot if Senora Montega is correcting you every other word. Do you really want that much attention from the teacher while we're there?"

He grimaced. "You're right. But I think I'll worry about Spain after making it through this weekend with the twins."

Annemarie opened her mouth wide, mocking shock. "What was that? I thought you were oh so confident about this weekend."

Devin sat up, wrapping his arms around his knees. He screwed up his face in faux embarrassment. "Well, you and Beau and your total lack of support have me all nervous now."

She reached over and patted his head. "You'll be fine." She seemed to think about it for a minute and then smiled at him shyly. "Do you want me to come over on Saturday and help you? I could probably get here early enough to help with breakfast." She suddenly seemed shy. "Only if you want the help, of course."

He looked at her, with her head slightly lowered and her eyes focused on the floor and smiled a little. How could she even consider the idea that he wouldn't want her around? Maybe she was just offering out of what she felt was obligation. "We've spent at least a couple of hours outside of school together almost every day for the past two weeks. Are you really sure you want to give up your Saturday to help me baby-sit?"

"Of course I do." She looked up at him, her shocking blue eyes earnest and Devin wanted to kiss her so much that it hurt a little. Something about her, though, seemed to be making him too nervous to take things to the next level. Trying to suppress that thought he reached out and traced his thumb gently across her hand where it held the edge of the Spanish book.

Annemarie smiled down at the contact and then up at him. "You're taking it very slow with me, Devin."

His eyes jolted up to meet her and he looked profoundly guilty. He felt like she had just read his mind. "What? I, uh." He tried to will away the blush coloring his cheeks. "What do you mean?"

Just smiled again and made his heart pound. "You haven't kissed me yet."

_Well it certainly hasn't been from lack of wanting to._ Stupidly, the only thing he could think to say was, "No, I haven't." _Jerk. Way to be suave. Cole and Charlie would be embarrassed. Way to talk her into getting more serious. State the obvious. That's always really effective._

While Devin's brain was running a mile a minute, Annemarie just smiled at him. "Why haven't you kissed me yet?"

Again, Devin was at a loss for words. He couldn't bring himself to tell her that he was scared, but he also didn't want to want to give the impression that it was of no consequence to him if they kissed. He was pretty sure it would stop his world. "Well, I guess I was just waiting for you to give me some kind of sign that it was what you wanted."

Their hands were still touching and Annemarie turned hers over to let her finger tips play against Devin's open palm. She smiled at him. "How about this for a sign?" She leaned in closer to him, angling her head so that their lips were only inches apart. Devin could feel her breath against his lips and though he knew her heart must be beating audibly, he couldn't hear a thing over the sound of his own beating in his chest.

Without another thought he tilted his head forward and let his lips find hers, kissing her softly at first and then deepening the kiss when she made no move to pull away. Very gently he nipped her bottom lip between his teeth and then kissed her lightly again before pulling away. When he opened his eyes, he found her sitting very close, with her eyelids still fluttered shut and a small smile played across her lips. She finally opened her eyes and looked directly at him.

"Well, it's about time."

* * *

"And in a story that we have been following for the past two weeks, Anaheim Ducks hockey star Adam Banks begins his just cause trial tomorrow morning to see if he will have to endure a jury trial for the shooting death of an intruder to his home earlier this month. Attorneys for Mr. Banks claim that the situation was justifiable self-defense, while the DA is claiming that the intruder was not actually planning to injure Mr. Banks or his live-in girlfriend. Ducks fans have been anxious to weigh in on the situation." 

A video came up on the television screen with a young woman and what looked like her two small sons. She shook her head sadly. "People have a right to protect their homes and their loved ones. There is no reason why anyone should be questioning what he did."

The shot changed to one of a middle-aged man, wearing his Ducks jersey. "That's the problem with this country, you know? Any old Joe thinking it's okay for him to have a gun in his home, and then just shooting people. That's a job for the police." He looked gruffly into the camera. "If you ask me, they should make an example of him, celebrity of not, and lock him up and throw away a key."

The shot went back to the studio anchor who nodded solemnly. "As you can see, Duck fans are divided on this issue. One thing remains though, that is that a man is dead and Adam Banks is accused of his murder."

"Jesus. Turn it off already." Beau was sitting on the couch, her chin in her hands and her eyes clouded. Dipping her head she ran her hands through her hair and then turned to face Kimball, who was sitting on the loveseat across the room. "Is there a lot of backlash publicly?"

Kimball sighed. "More than I would have thought. Gun legislation is such a big issue here. People seem to be angry that he had the gun in the first place." She pointed at the other side of the room where three canvas sacks stood in a corner. "But those over there are all bags of support mail. I guess it's pretty divided."

Beau stared at the mail for a minute before finally lowering her voice and leaning in towards Kimball. "Did you know that he had the gun?" Kimball nodded and Beau shook her head. "I don't have a problem with it. But…well, it just seems so **un**-Adam."

At this Kimball nodded again. "You know, we really went back and forth over whether or not it was something we wanted to have in our home. In the end, though, the letters I was getting kept getting more and more threatening and more and more graphic. We knew that someone had been able to access our balcony. And there was the thought that whoever it was wasn't having a problem getting into our building. And the police couldn't figure anything out. They had absolutely no leads and they had pulled the protection off of me. Honestly, Beau," she shook her head, "we were really scared."

Now it was Beau who nodded. "I can totally understand that." They were in the living room of Kimball's friend, Julie's house and she looked out towards the back porch where Charlie and Adam were sitting at a patio table. "Has he been like that ever since that night?"

The red-head looked out through the glass door at her boyfriend and felt her heart break in small measure. After what seemed like a long time she shook her head. "I can't get through to him. I understand that he took someone's life, and I know that I can't possible know what it would be like to live with that. He's quiet, he's desolate. He's broken out of the vagueness, which is good. It was so painful to see him so empty." She looked back to Beau now. "But you know him. You know what he's like. He's confident and funny and thoughtful. Now he's just stuck inside his own world and he's angry and hurt and he doesn't want to be around anyone." She raised her shoulders once. "I don't know how to get through to him."

Beau moved closer to the woman she had considered a friend for quite some time now and rubbed her hand on the arm of the chair. "Have you told him how you feel?"

"I've tried." Kimball's' voice raised a notch as she tried not to loose hold on her volatile emotions. "He saved my life. I know that to be the absolute truth. This law suit thing is ridiculous, and we all know it will go away, but I'm worried that this Adam, the one who hates himself, isn't going to go away. He doesn't seem to hear what I'm saying. I love him, but he saved my life and now he's killing me."

**

* * *

Author Note: Thanks, everyone for all the input on the past couple of chapters. I always planned to have Adam plead not-guilty by reason of self-defense. Because he's a celebrity, and this one detective is a jerk, I thought there was some room there for some extra angst. Plus I wanted to explore the fan backlash. Thanks for the thoughts!**

**Johnny**: It's true. Adam's having a rough time of it. Don't worry. I love him too much to have it last too awfully long. Or do I? Mwa ha ha.

**RedLA**: Interesting thought on Connie. A lot of people have said that. Guess you'll have to wait and see!

**Joank**: I was learning sign language for my job, but don't need it anymore I guess now! Job hunt is SLOW going. Sigh. Yeah, I think there will probably be a story development in the next year or so for Chase and/or Riley. Any suggestions? I'm kinda focused on A/K, D/A, and C/D right now. But I always love storied for Beau and Charlie!

**Hockey-girl90**: THANKS!

**SleepyGoof07**: I'm so torn on Connie and Guy. I was just going to have her not wanting a big production, but everyone seems to want her to be pregnant, which interferes with an idea I had for a story line later. I kind of like the idea of everyone falling apart and Beau and Charlie being the helpful friends that everyone goes to. I don't know! Also, I've been missing Rachel and Fulton but have NO NO NO idea what to do with them.

**AdoptedThug**: I'm glad you liked the suspense. I was fond of the handcuffing scene, so your comments meant a lot!

**antiIrony**: Adam in prison? I don't think I could do that to him.

**Pitaqueen**: You setting goals has me writing like a fiend. Now if you could just supply me with some good ideas I'd be set!

**SilverConlon**: Thanks!


	24. At the Cost of Another

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"You look tired." Annemarie said it with a small smile on her face and her arms crossed over her chest.

Devin backed up a step, allowing her to move through the front door and then kicked it shut behind her, yawning. "Because I am. If it wasn't one thing with one twin last night, it was another with the other. I got, like, three hours of sleep." He glanced down at the cup in her hand. "If that's coffee, I'll marry you right now."

"Promises, promises." With a smirk she shoved the cup into his hand and sauntered towards the kitchen where the sound of toddlers giggling filled the room. When she came around the corner she was mildly surprised to see Riley and Chase clean, dressed, and very happily tossing Cheerios back and forth at each other from their booster seats on either side of the kitchen nook table. She turned to raise an eyebrow at Devin. "I'm impressed."

Devin sagged against the bar and took a long drink of coffee before looking very pleased with himself. "Because I've taken such wonderful care of my siblings?"

Annemarie scoffed and reached up to tighten her pony-tail. "Well, yes. I figured when I saw how horrible you looked they were both likely to be lying somewhere in their own filth." She winked at him. "Good job, Devin." Walking over she stood on tip-toes and pecked him on the lips. "You **do** look horrible though. I'll watch the kids. Why don't you go, you know, take a shower and brush your teeth."

With a long sigh of satisfaction, Devin grinned. "A shower is going to be great. If I'm not back in like four hours, send up a search party." And with that he gave her a playful shove towards the table and walked away. Reaching the door her turned, "Hey, Annemarie?"

Sitting at the table she tickled Chase's stomach before looking over at Devin. "Yeah?"

He smiled, his eyes locked on hers. "You're amazing." When she just gaped at him he shrugged. "I don't know if I've ever mentioned that. But you are." And then he turned around and walked out.

* * *

"We **knew** it would work out, Adam." Beau pulled back from hugging Banks and, with her hands on his shoulders, held him at arms length. "The charges were dismissed. You should be happy." She squeezed gently. "Happy, you know. Not morose and kind of scary." She brushed a hand up his cheek, feeling days worth of blond stubble, and tried a quirky smile. "The silent Banks kind of freaks me out, buddy."

Adam backed up a step and, in a very telling gesture, crossed his arms over his chest. He gave Beau a brief stare and then looked across the hotel's outdoor pool and to a place in the distance.

Beau looked at Charlie pointedly. When he only looked back at her in confusion she bugged her eyes and pointed at their friend. "Say something," she mouthed silently, tucking a piece of hair that the wind was blowing behind her ear forcibly.

Charlie shoved his hands deep in his pockets, trying to keep a manly semblance about the proceedings where he was supposed to 'talk' to Banks. He walked a few steps closer and turned his body to face in the same direction as Adam, both of their backs now to the hotel.

He didn't know where to begin. He wanted to reach out and wrap his arm around Adam's shoulders. He wanted to ruffle his hair like he used to do when they were kids just to piss Adam off. He wanted to tell him that he had done what he needed to do to protect the woman that he loved and that was okay. He wanted to look him in the eye and tell him that he was his best friend, his brother, and that he loved him and was glad the whole ordeal was over.

But he couldn't. He couldn't put his arm out and ruffle Banks' hair because Adam had closed himself off from the world physically. He had made it quite clear with his body language that he did not want to be touched.

He couldn't tell him that what he had done was okay. It had been the right thing, but Charlie knew that if he was in Adam's place…well, could he live with himself if he had taken a life? He couldn't tell him that he loved him, because Adam would just stare at him with those hollow eyes, and Charlie wasn't sure he could take it.

Charlie knew that if he could just find the perfect way to start, the right thing to say or do, then everything would be okay. But how do you start that conversation? The one where you tell your friend you know that his life has changed forever and that it's never going to be the same. It had to be just the right words.

"At least it's over, Banks." Charlie dropped his head and sighed. _Nice, Conway. That's probably the stupidest thing you could have said. How profound._

He looked up, choking back the lump rising in his throat…the frustration at his inability to say the right thing to the man he thought of as his brother. Adam, it seemed, was frustrated too.

With a bitter laugh, Adam turned slightly to face Charlie and stared at him with the hint of an angry glare. "It's **not** over, Charlie." He raised his hands, and then let them drop heavily down to his sides. "Maybe for everyone else. For me it's the first day of the rest of my life. The life where I'm a murderer."

Charlie was angry, he realized. Angry that Adam couldn't see through the pain of the situation to the heart. Angry that the situation had turned his friend into a different person. He was angry at the friend he felt slipping away. He reached out and shoved Adam a little more roughly than he had intended, sending him back a few steps.

"Stop it!" His voice was soft but menacing, the emotion turning his normally affable tone gruff. "You killed him so that Kimball would live. There's no shame in that." He spread his arms, palms to the sky. "You saved her life!"

Adam took two shaky steps forward and leaned over, his face inches from Charlie's, his voice getting louder with every word. "At the cost of another! I'm not God. I don't get to make those decisions!"

Charlie was dumbstruck by what he was hearing. He grabbed both of Adam's shoulders and shook hard. "Listen to yourself. What you're saying makes no sense. You didn't make a decision. You acted on instinct. You protected what was yours." Charlie was yelling now. "You're a good man, Adam. God damn it! Don't do this to yourself!"

With those words and a strong gust of air blowing in off the ocean, it was like all the fight drained out of Adam's body. He sagged briefly against Charlie's grip and then let himself sink onto the end of a chaise behind him. Charlie dropped to a knee next to him, and did what he had been aching to do. He slid an arm around Adam's shoulders and held on.

Adam took several ragged breaths before dropping his head into his hands. His voice was so soft that Charlie struggled to hear him over the wind and the surf. "I know I did what I had to. I would do it again." He looked up and there was a faint sheen of tears in his eyes. "I just don't know if I can live with it."

* * *

With a tremendous sigh Devin sank onto the plush cushions of the living room sectional and leaned in close to Annemarie where she was watching television. "You are a life saver." He kissed her cheek lightly.

She smiled, leaning towards him a bit. "Yes, I am." She turned her head and gave him a knowing grin. "You would have been out numbered without me."

Devin sat back and tried unsuccessfully to look offended. "Hey, I baby-sit them all the time without any help, thank you very much." When she only stared at him, he sighed and leaned closer again. "Okay…the overnight thing **was** a bit more difficult." He kissed her cheek again, this time just a bit closer to her mouth. "I would have been out numbered without you." Reaching up, he slid one finger under her chin and gently turned her head to face him. "I owe you one."

He watched as she bit her lip and then smiled. "A very big one." She grinned, leaning so close that their foreheads were resting together. "Pay up."

Devin grinned. "Yes ma'am." And with that he kissed her.

**

* * *

So, I suck…big time. I know it. I feel like a jerk. I got so caught up in life that I left my little Ducks to wither away. I didn't realize that I missed them until I happened upon an old chapter of Everything's Eventual. So, I've re-read and been racking my brain for days to try to get some inspiration. I'm so sorry if I've left anyone who cared hanging. I don't know how frequent updates will be now, but I do plan to finish this out. So, to appease anyone who stills cares, here's where some things are going:**

**I know what's going to happen with Adam and Kimball and I've got some ideas for Connie and Guy. Let's just say neither couple is going to have happily every after right now.**

**Cole and Darby will be making an appearance soon, although I'm not quite sure where they are headed. Probably just some good old fashioned fluff for now. Or maybe someone has a skeleton in their closet. I'm not sure.**

**Devin and Annemarie. For some reason I'm having a really hard time with them. I have a GREAT, totally drama filled, mega-suspenseful idea for Devin. You'll need to suspend reality a bit and just imagine that this whole group is like one big drama after another. Totally not plausible, but fun as hell to write. What do you guys think of Annemarie? What do you want to see happen with them?**

**As for Rachel and Fulton…sigh. They are eluding me right now. We'll see. Any ideas?**

**Beau and Charlie have had enough drama for a while. But never fear…they will be involved in Devin's story-line pretty extensively.**

**Okay, sorry for the long author note. I'm actually not even sure anyone will read this now, it's been so long. If you are reading this and are interested in me continuing, please review :) Thanks for sticking with me guys.**


	25. This Isn't Working

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"I'm sorry we're just now getting to do this." Beau squeezed Guy tighter and then kissed him roughly on the cheek. She backed up a step and hooked her thumbs in her back pockets.

Guy shrugged and smiled at Connie when she appeared in the restaurant door. Giving her a wink he turned back to Beau. "With everything going on with Adam it doesn't really seem like the time to be celebrating, you know?"

Beau screwed up her face and pinched his arm. "What's going on with Adam doesn't negate the fact that you and Connie got married." She felt her face fall and forced a smile. "Adam said he was sorry he couldn't be here." Now she smiled at him with genuine wonder. "I can't believe you're **married**. It's so exciting!"

Guy looked a little guilty, but beamed back at her. "I know." He gestured around as Connie joined them, Charlie, Rachel and Fulton in the room at the back of his favorite restaurant in Minneapolis. "Thanks for getting everyone together." He looked around at their friends and then her. "You're quite the little party planner."

Connie walked up to the table looking tired but happy. She beamed around at the group. "I'm **so** sorry I'm late. The interview with the magazine ran crazy long." She kissed Guy on the cheek and let him help her out of her jacket. She took a long breath, shook her shoulder length hair back and grinned. "Hey everyone!"

They were all standing up to exchange another round of hugs and Beau was the first to pull Connie into an embrace. "Congratulations…Mrs. Germaine!"

Connie laughed. "That's Mrs. Moreau, actually. I'm keeping my last name. Thanks for planning this, Beau." Before Beau could say anything else, Connie was pulled away by Fulton who had her in a bear hug.

Beau turned around and looked over her shoulder at Guy. He only raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Don't start, Beau."

Beau laughed. "I'm just saying. Connie Germaine sounds pretty darn good." She was going to say more but she was suddenly picked up from behind and swung around in a circle, her legs flailing out and one of her red heels falling off. "Hey!" She reached behind her and felt a head full of curly hair. "Cole!"

She was dropped quite unceremoniously to the floor. "Good guess. You win a hug."

Beau spun around without even retrieving her shoe and grinned up at Cole's face. He was looking down at her wickedly and she immediately fell into their old pattern. She cocked out a hip, rolled her eyes, and ran a hand absently over her hair. "Who says I want a hug from you? What a crappy prize."

"Oh, she wants a hug. She's been going on for the past two days about how excited she is to see you." Charlie leaned in behind his wife and rested his chin on her shoulder where the halter top she was wearing left the skin bare. Sticking out his hand he smiled. "What's up, Procida? Where's this chick I've heard so much about?"

Beau signed as they shook hands. "You ruined my witty banter, Conway. Thanks a ton." She shrugged, forcing him to move his face. "And don't call her a chick. Try not to be a Neanderthal; at least until you've fooled her into thinking you're charming."

Charlie brushed a piece of lint off of his tie and then turned up one corner of his mouth in the way that always softened her up. "I **am** charming."

Cole laughed, realizing how much he had missed them. "Give him a break, Beau." He reached out and gave her a hug and a kiss. "And Darby is in the bathroom. I don't think she actually had to go." He looked around as everyone had quieted down and was listening to him. "She's very nervous about meeting you lot."

From her side of the table Rachel glanced around, remembering her first time meeting the boys club. Charlie was still practicing his charming smile on Beau, who had hit him twice and was now pointing at a chair and informing him he had better sit down before she took his legs out from under him. Connie and Guy were nuzzling each other and ignoring the world. Fulton was greedily scarfing down a buttered roll. She nudged him and rolled her eyes. Her voice dripping with sarcasm, it was now her turn to roll her eyes. "I can't imagine why she would be nervous."

* * *

When Kimball woke up in the new apartment, she was alone in bed. Sighing, she reached over to where Adam usually slept and felt the sheets. Cold. He had been out of bed for a while, then.

With another sigh, she ran a hand over her unruly curls and tied them into a loose knot at the base of her neck, tucking the free strands behind her ears. She slid her feet to the floor and felt around for her light cotton robe.

Tying the belt of her robe and crossing her arms in front of her she padded quietly through the dark into the living room. She knew where Adam would be. He was where he always was.

Kimball stood on the inside of the glass French doors and looked out into the night at Adam's back. He was standing on the porch, ten stories up, looking out towards the horizon, his elbows perched on the low stucco wall that served as the boundaries of their little slice of world. She knew from nights and nights of experience that when she walked outside to stand next to him there would be a small glass tumbler in his hand.

For a long moment she watched the rise and fall of his shoulders and wondered if she should just go back to bed. Leave him be. It seemed to be what he wanted anyway. But Kimball knew she couldn't. She loved Adam and she wouldn't be able to sleep if she didn't at least try to talk to him. With a deep breath she pulled open the door and walked out into the night air.

Neither of them said anything. She walked to stand beside him, mirroring his pose and gazing at the full moon where it hung over the ocean, reflecting light so bright the night looked naked and exposed. She glanced into her periphery and saw him raise the glass to his lips and take a small sip. Adam had drunk little but wine for as long as she had known him. Now he was drinking several cocktails each night that were becoming more Grey Goose and less mixer with every serving.

"I'm sorry you missed Guy and Connie's party tonight."

Adam said nothing, but just took another drink. Kimball waited. Finally he sighed. "Yeah. I feel bad I didn't go, but I would have just pulled things down. I'm not much fun to be around lately." He laughed a little and turned to face her. "But look who I'm talking to." He reached up and brushed a hair off of her forehead.

Kimball closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. His voice had just a trace of the old Adam and she tried to hold onto it. But then he laughed again. "You know better than anyone that I only bring down a room now." She opened her eyes and tried to blink back the tears that were trying to find their ways from her eyes. One still escaped and trickled down here cheek. Adam saw it and turn back to the ocean.

"This isn't working, Kimball." He exhaled, trying to breathe again. He had been trying for a week to say those words to her and they were even harder than he had imagined.

Kimball felt like someone had hit her in the stomach with a bat. "What isn't working, Adam?"

He turned to her again, setting his empty glass down on the table and avoiding her eyes. "Us." He gestured towards the door and the apartment they had moved into just a few days before. "This." He shrugged his shoulders.

She was mad. She didn't realize it at first because she was having to concentrate so wholly on breathing. But she was angry. Spitting mad, in fact. "That's bullshit, and you know it."

Adam looked up at her now and she was struck by the dark circles under his eyes and the light absent from them. "Really, Kimball? Are you happy with me?"

She looked at him and opened her mouth to speak, but had no idea what to say. She closed it again and bit her bottom lip, again willing away the tears, even as they fell freely against her alabaster skin.

Adam nodded. "I'm so sorry, Kimball. I wish I could be that man for you." He moved gently past her and paused at the door, his hand on the knob, his back to her. "I'm moving out tomorrow." He voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I'm sorry." He went through the door, leaving her on the porch where she picked up his glass and hurled it towards the sea.

* * *

Their laughter filled the room and every one of them to a man (and woman) felt content in the warmth of their friendship, momentarily transported back to the days when they all lived within walking distance of each other. Looking around at her friends, Beau had a moment to think that while she desperately missed those times, these people were still the fabric of her life and without any of them now or in the past, she wouldn't be the person that she was.

The warmth of that thought running through her, she covered Charlie's hand on the table and ran her thumb across his skin. He looked over at her and she mouthed, "I love you" to him. He returned the sentiment and leaned over to kiss her.

With his lips still on Beau's, Charlie let his eyes wander across the table and to the door of the private room. He smiled against his wife's mouth and then pulled back. "Showtime." He reached across Beau and tapped Cole's shoulder. "I think you're girl finally came out of hiding, buddy."

Cole's head turned and, Beau realized, a girl would have to be blind to miss the way that his face changed when his gaze landed on Darby. His eyes lit and his smile was brilliant. Following his stare she couldn't help but notice that the woman standing in the doorway was grinning back at him in the same enraptured way. And she was beautiful. Drop dead, knock out beautiful.

Cole jumped up and jogged quickly across the room. His friends watched as he whispered and moved his hands in sign language at the same time. Darby smiled and nodded her head. Beau was a little surprised so see Cole bend down to kiss her forehead before grabbing her hands and leading her towards their table. He had always been so cocky with girls. With Darby he was himself. It was so obvious and it tripped her heart.

"Guys," Cole released her hand and signed. "This is Darby O'Connor. Darby," he gestured around the table. "This is everyone." He looked at his friends. "Darby reads lips, so as long as you look right at her when you're talking you should be set." Darby smiled and nodded and spoke in her heavily impeded voice.

"It's so nice to meet you all." Again the group stood up and, shaking hands in turn, Cole introduced everyone. He saved Beau for last, telling himself it was because of where she was sitting but knowing in the back of his mind that he desperately needed her to like Darby. He sought her approval for most things in his life.

He put a hand on his girlfriend's back and looked at her. "Darby, this is Beau Conway, one of my best…"

Darby interrupted him by reaching out and shaking Beau's offered hand with both of hers. She signed and he translated. "Oh Beau, I've heard so much about you." She put a hand to her chest briefly. "I've been so excited to meet you, but please tell me I'm making a good first impression because I'm pretty sure I'll be booted out the door of the restaurant right this minute if you hate me." She pulled a mock anxious face and Beau let out a peal of laughter. Looking at Cole she grinned.

"This one I love."

**

* * *

SleepyGoof07: Thanks for reviewing. I'm so glad this motley crew was missed. Hope this update was soon enough for you and that you enjoy it!**

**Cc:** If I'm not mistaken, this is the second time I've posted a new chapter of one of my stories on your birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Good to be back.

**Levishade:** Thanks for being a willing reader. Hopefully I won't disappoint you too much!

**SilverConlon:** I'm glad you enjoy. I still think I'm partial to Everything's Eventual, but I do enjoy this one as well…particularly Devin. I hope you can deal with some more major drama, because it's going to happen.

**Secret Places:** I'm glad you're digging Devin and Annemarie. I didn't mean to write them like Beau and Charlie, but I suppose that makes sense, huh? I'm actually having a VERY hard time writing them though…

**Donna79:** Thanks for reviewing. See what I said to Secret Places about D/A. I'm having a hard time with her and I don't know why. Any suggestions of where they should go?

**Hockey-girl90:** One of my long time reviewers. Thanks so much for coming back!!

**Johnny:** Thanks for sticking with me. Sorry for the LONG wait. I do, indeed, suck!


	26. Either Both

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"You're grandmother is fairly amazing, you know that?" Annemarie was standing on the Conway's front stoop, her hands deep in her red pea coat's pockets and a big smile on her face.

Devin rocked back on his heels. "No kidding. She's the best." He looked over his shoulder towards the window to make sure that Aggie wasn't spying and then took a step forward, a wicked grin on his face. "Second only to you, of course." Keeping his hands in his pockets and leaning towards her against the cold wind he winked. "I owe you huge for this weekend. Thanks for your help. The twins love you."

Her nose growing slightly pink from the temperature, Annemarie puckered her lips and rolled her eyes dramatically. "What can I say? I'm very loveable." Tapping her lips with a gloved finger she then reached out and tugged on Devin's shirt. "And you do owe me. Pay up."

Not needing to be asked twice, he let himself be pulled against her warm body and dropped his head so that their lips could meet. As they kissed, he was hyper-aware of her hand still fisted in his shirt, sandwiched between them, and the way that her fingers involuntarily tightened as he deepened the kiss.

No stranger to kissing girls, Devin still marveled at how different it felt with Annemarie. Every time it felt like something was shaking him up from the inside out. He managed to be simultaneously awkward feeling and supremely confident. She was rapidly changing his world and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Nipping her bottom lip lightly he pulled back a fraction and ran his hands up and down her arms. "I should probably let you go. It's getting colder by the minute." Then he bent down and kissed her lightly, resisting the urge to yank her against him again.

Turning her startling blue eyes to the overcast and turbulent late winter sky Annemarie nodded. "Yeah, I should probably go." She looked back down at him, smiling at his pink cheeks and his curly hair and the way that it was whipping into his eyes in the wind. She looked over his shoulder and laughed. "Besides," she pointed towards a front room window. "Grandma Mayland is spying."

Wincing, his brow crinkled, Devin glanced back to see his grandmother peeking around a curtain. She realized immediately that she had been spotted and moved further into view, Chase on her hip and a ridiculous guilty smile on her face. She shrugged as if to say, 'what, I'm allowed!' and then gave a cartoony thumbs-up before turning away from the window.

Devin turned around, shaking his head and laughing. "She likes you." He reached out and brushed Annemarie's bangs sideways so that they swept across her forehead and out of her eyes. "My whole family does."

She smiled, taking his hand when he would have pulled it away from her face. "I like them back." She turned his palm to her lips and kissed it with a loud smack. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

* * *

"They were all totally fantastic." Darby couldn't contain her excitement as Cole followed her into her house and set her suitcase at the base of the stairs. "Your friends are absolutely amazing."

Cole cocked his head and ran a hand absently over his blond curls. "I've been telling you that all along, haven't I?" He said it with a grin and then followed her into the kitchen where she handed him a beer and opened one for herself.

They clinked the necks of their bottles together and Darby took a sip before signing. "I know. I expected them to be really nice, but I just didn't have any idea how nice, and **funny**. I've never seen a group of friends where so many of them were so funny!"

Cole nodded at that. "Yeah, we've got a really good dynamic. There's never a dull moment." He smiled a little wistfully and thought of how much fun the dinner for Connie and Guy had been and then the next day where he and Darby had done a visit back to Pennington with Charlie and Beau. He knew it was important to him that they all get along, but he hadn't realized how much until he had seen Beau and Darby commiserating about the quirky things about the men in their lives. It had nearly brought him to his knees with happiness and probably would have if he hadn't been standing right in front of Charlie. So, typically, he just pointed at them and rolled his eyes.

Darby dug into a bag of chips. "Seriously, Cole. You are so lucky to have them all." She offered him the bag and he took a handful. "Especially Beau. She's awesome."

Cole munched on a chip and thought how best to word what he wanted to say. "I'm glad you finally met her. It seemed strange to me that you hadn't." Giving himself time to think he busied his hands by wiping them on his jeans. "It was really important to me that you two liked each other."

Darby frowned. "Did you think we wouldn't?"

Shrugging, Cole hopped down from the counter and walked to stand between Darby's legs where they were dangling from her seat next to the stove. "No, I knew you would love her." He paused, dropping his hands to her knees.

"You didn't think she would like me?" She didn't look angry, just curious.

He shook his head vigorously. "No, it's not that at all. I think I knew she would like you…**love** you," he corrected, "to use her words." Again he ran a hand over his hair, a nervous habit. If he had a hockey stick in his hand he would have been swinging it alternately between laying it across his shoulder and tapping the ice, his tell tale tick. "I was just a bit scared of what might happen if it…you know, didn't work out so well." He shrugged again. "Beau can be a bit protective of me."

Darby shook back her stick straight black hair and smiled. "If Beau had hated me would you have broken up with me?"

He gave her a light push. "Never would have happened."

She smiled. "Which? Beau hating me or you breaking up with me?"

Now it was his turn to smile. "Either." He reached up a hand and ran a thumb over her lips. "Both." He kissed her lightly. "Besides, Beau loved you. She said you were a good 'foil' for me." He rolled his eyes. "She's always using literary terms, which is crazy annoying."

Darby laid her hand on his cheek. "So, you know what 'foil' means?"

He laughed. "Nope." Reaching out, he grabbed her hips and pulled her an inch closer and smiled when she wrapped her legs around his waist. "But I'm assuming it means you're perfect for me, which I happen to agree with." He stared at her long and hard before raising his right hand in sign and speaking at the same time. "I love you, Darby."

She stared back at him for what felt like forever. She wasn't used to relationships getting this far. She had always been so guarded, keeping her most important feelings lock up tight for fear of getting hurt. With Cole she had just gone head first into everything, never looking back and never worrying. She realized now that he was staring at her, waiting for her to say the words back…she was totally ready.

"I love you too, Cole." He barked out a quick laugh and kissed her rough and hard. It thrilled to be wanted and loved in that way. Pushing him away she swept a hand through her hair and then breathed deep. She looked him straight in the eye. "My bedroom's upstairs."

* * *

"He did what?" Charlie was staring at Beau in total disbelief. They hadn't been in the door ten minutes before Aggie had told them about her phone call from Kimball McGuillicuddy. "Wait, why did Kimball tell you the story?" When his mother-in-law glared at him he smiled sheepishly. "No offense. She's just never even met you."

Beau's mother nodded. "Fair enough. But, the poor girl was crying when she called and I said some placating things and, well, I'm just so nice and charming that she opened right up. She said he told her he was moving out and then did the very next morning."

Beau sighed heavily and leaned back in the kitchen chair. "We are so dysfunctional. What? We can't get through one drama without another one ensuing?"

Charlie nodded, half amused at the truth of Beau's comment, half worried about his friend. He knew that Adam was head over heels for Kimball, so what the hell was he doing? "I'm going to call him. See if I can't get his side of the story."

"It's not like he's been Mr. Talkative lately, babe. I'm not sure how much luck you're going to have." But Beau handed him the phone. "I'm going to see if I can get Kimball on her cell."

Charlie smile. "As usual. The level-headed Conways solving everyone's problems."

Aggie laughed. "Charlie, honey. No-one ever called you level-headed. Please don't think we're going to start now."

**

* * *

RedLA: Thanks! I have a very special place in my heart of Beau and Cole. I almost put them together once, but I'm so glad that I didn't.**

**Cc:** Did you have a good birthday? And you are more than welcome. Glad they are so "live" for you. They are for me too!

**Dominus:** Thanks for sticking with me through the hiatus. Hopefully there won't be another!

**Torithy:** Flattery will get you everywhere! Thanks so much for checking out Everything's Eventual. I actually prefer it to this one because I enjoyed writing the younger Beau and Charlie so much. Hope you enjoy the sequel!

**Donna79:** Yeah, Adam…sigh. I needed him tortured for a while. I think he's got a good personality for it. Thanks for the input on Annemarie and Devin. I'm keeping it in mind, although I'm not sure it will work with something I have way in the future. Hmmm…

**Hockey-girl90:** A little Devin to sooth the soul. As for your other question…I'm not telling!!!

**Johnny:** Maybe I'll writing in a rain slicker to shield Adam from those rotten tomatoes!

**joshysgirl:** You crack me up. I'm glad you just ignore the parts you don't like. If you're an Adam fan, you might have a few more parts to skip. Heh heh heh!

**Secret Places:** Don't worry. Love is most certainly on the horizon for Devin. He's one of my faves, so I can't deny him!


	27. This Place Sucks

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"I don't think I quite understood you, Adam." Charlie tried to pick his jaw up off the floor, but couldn't quite manage. "You **what**?"

Adam sighed heavily into the phone. "You heard me just fine, Charlie."

"Right. Maybe. Say it again, though. Humor me, huh?"

Another heavy sigh before Adam's noticeably monotone voice crept through the line. "I said I was free agent this year and that I hadn't signed my contract for next season yet, so I didn't."

Staring fixedly at the speakerphone for a moment, Charlie shook his head and glanced over at Beau. She looked as shocked as he felt. Her voice sounded unsure when she spoke. "So you didn't."

"Right."

Beau's brows shot up. Was it really possible that Adam could sound so devoid of emotion? She held up her hand when Charlie started to speak. She scooted a little closer to the phone. "Adam Banks, have you gone completely mental?" A hand whacked her in the back of the head. "Ow!" She looked over at Charlie who was gaping at her. "What? You're thinking it to." She looked back at the phone. "I'm done coddling you, Banks. Quitting hockey? That's nuts."

Charlie started to speak, shook his head again at Beau, and rolled his eyes when she shrugged. "Banks, this is the sane member of the Conway household. Seriously, though, man. This is a little rash, don't you think? What are you going to do now?"

There was a long silence at the other end of the line. "To be honest, I haven't really thought that far ahead. I just didn't feel like playing anymore. I don't really feel like doing much of anything." He paused. "Look guys, I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. Really. I've gotta go, though. I'll talk to you later. Bye." And without another word, he hung up.

Charlie looked over at Beau. "Nice going, Captain Subtle."

She leaned back. "Whatever, Charlie. I was serious when I said I was done coddling him. We've done that. It hasn't worked. Time for a new tactic." She spun around to the computer and pulled up Travelocity. "And that new strategy involves you flying out there and getting Banks back in gear."

* * *

"And that's the news for tonight, Los Angeles. Thanks for joining us. We'll see you tomorrow night." Kimball listened as the theme music played and straightened the papers on the desk in front of her. She smiled when her co-anchor made a lame joke. He had asked her out twice that week. It was getting old fast.

It wasn't that he wasn't a nice guy. In another time she would have jumped at the chance to date a good looking, successful, kind guy who found her attractive. The problem was that she was already in love with a good looking, successful, kind guy who found her attractive. It just turned out that he didn't want to be in love with her any more.

That wasn't quite it, though. Kimball wasn't stupid. She knew that Adam still loved her. She also knew that every time he looked at her he was reminded of the fact that he had killed a man. It was a fact, she knew, that he was finding it increasingly hard to live with.

She walked down the hall towards her dressing room, smiling absently at an intern as she passed him. Pulling her cell phone from her pocket she flipped it open, hoping as she did multiple times a day, that she would have a missed call and/or a message from Adam. As usual, she was disappointed. She was surprised to see, though, that she had a missed call from Beau Conway. She punched in the number to check her messages.

"Kimball, this is Beau. Adam's being a prick. Don't worry. I'm sending Charlie out there to kick his ass back into normal, loveable Adam mode." There was a long pause. "All joking aside, it'll be okay. He's going to snap out of this. Okay, I should go. Call me, huh?"

When the message was over, Kimball listened to it again. Then for a third time. For the first time in days she felt some hope. If anyone could get through to Adam, and God knew she had tried, it would be Charlie.

This time when an intern passed her, she gave the kid a real smile.

* * *

"So sue me. I'm a little nervous." Devin was standing on Annemarie's front porch, nervously shoving his hands into his pockets and then removing them again.

She looked at him blandly. "You've met my parents before, Dev."

He let his ice blue eyes rove from the front window to the front door and then to her amused eyes. "Right. That was for like five minutes. That was also before your dad caught us making out when I dropped you off last weekend."

Annemarie didn't even try to stifle her laugh. "You're such a dork. Who cares that he caught us kissing?"

"I care!" He knew his voice sounded a bit hysterical, but he couldn't help it. _Be a man, Devin!_ "After last weekend I'm not just the guy dating his daughter. I'm the guy who's got his tongue down the throat of his precious baby girl."

After a long moment of watching him fidget on her doorstep Annemarie laughed out loud again and grabbed his hand. "That's actually really gross, and I can pretty much guarantee that if that **is** how my dad is thinking of you, he's probably trying to think it as little as possible."

As he was drug towards the door Devin grimaced. "Oh great. That makes me feel loads better."

* * *

"Haven't you ever heard of calling first?" Adam was standing inside his door, holding it open just far enough for his body to fill the opening, his eyes a dull grey, glaring out at his best friend.

Charlie glared right back and dropped his duffle bag loudly to the floor. "Yeah. Heard of it. I was pretty sure best friends didn't have to call first." He looked up and down the hall. It was a nice hotel, but being nice didn't negate the desolateness of living out of a suitcase and very much alone. "This place sucks, Banks."

Adam shrugged and leaned against the door jamb. "It shouldn't suck for as much as I'm paying a night." He crossed his arms, clearly not planning to invite Charlie in. "What are you doing here, Conway?"

Charlie looked down at his bag and raised an eyebrow. "I would think it was pretty obvious. I'm here to hang out with you."

"I don't need an intervention."

Charlie held up a six pack of Yuengling that he had been carrying. "I know you don't."

Adam eyed the beer, then rolled his eyes. He shoved the door a little farther open. "C'mon. You look like an idiot standing there in the hall with your beer and your bag."

**

* * *

Faithful readers: HELP! I'm getting some serious writer's block and need some input. What do you want to see happen? Who do you want to hear more about? Ideas for plot points? This is your chance to set the course for Life's Little Bumps and Bruises. I need you guys. Please? PLEASE???**

**Hockey-girl90**: Sorry for the long wait. Probably longer than you were hoping to wait. I've been so busy with music reviews and such I haven't had much time for fun writing!

**Donna79**: Yeah, I love Aggie. She's the mother-in-law we should all be so lucky to have. Of course, Charlie is the husband we should all be so luck to have too! Hahah

**Joshysgirl**: Thanks for reviewing. Sorry it took me so long to get back!

**Cc**: Glad you had a great birthday. I just had one myself. It was pretty lame this year, but I think that probably happens more as you get OLD! Haha Yeah, I was never so sure about Kimball. Her and Darby were both really hard to write early on, as Annemarie is now. Anyway, she has grown on me. I LOVE writing surly Adam. He's so easy!

**Torithy**: That is the ultimate compliment as far as I'm concerned. Thanks so much!

**Johhny**: I'm pretty sure I'd have no comeback for that one. Thanks for keeping up with me!

**Sinbin05**: You've always been such a loyal reviewer. Thanks! Yeah, I've got Adam down this road and now it's hard to get him back. I'm not such about a shrink, but I'm thinking Charlie might do the trick.

**SecretPlaces**: I like your take on Darby and Beau. It might be interesting to get them closer local wise and see what happens and how Cole would react to them being friends. Hmmmm!

**Pitaqueen**: Sorry, you did have to wait but at least it wasn't QUITE so long! Thanks for keeping me on track!

**Flyinghawk**: I don't know! Who would you like to see? Any suggestions on how they can fit into the story??? HELP!?!

**Just a fan**: I think you're flipping awesome! Thanks for the kind review.

**Joanoa**: Two nights??? That's a serious undertaking. They take FOREVER to read, so I'm totally flattered that you put in the time! I'm glad you're enjoying and I'll try to get this one finished some time in the near future so you don't have grand kids when you read the finale!

**Jas120**: Yes you are!

**Anonymous**: I'm trying. I wish I could do it more often. I'll try to be more on top of this story!


	28. Make Me

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

It had been an awkward hour. Charlie was trying to lounge in what might look like a relaxed manner on the couch in Adam's suite, a beer perched on his thigh, his gaze semi-focused on the increasingly boring golf game Adam had turned on the television, wondering what to do now that he was here.

He had the flying across the country, buying beer, standing in the hallway making snarky comments down to an art. Now actually being a useful friend, well that remained to be seen.

"So, uh…"

Adam looked over at him with eyes as cold as steel and the look was enough to cut Charlie off.

"I said I didn't need an intervention, Charlie."

Dropping his head back onto the arm of the sofa and running a hand over his unruly hair, Charlie sucked in a breath counting to ten before slowly letting it out and then tilting his head to glare right back.

"Okay then. What about a friend? Could you use one of those? Because I'm trying my fucking hardest to be that for you, but you seem awful damn set on pushing me the fuck out."

After a long pause Adam turned back to watch Tiger sink a putt, his voice bland. "You kiss Beau with that mouth?"

Charlie sat up now, his face red with anger. He was pissed with Adam for being so impossible to get through to. He was pissed with Beau for sending him to California to be treated like crap. But the paramount problem was that he was supremely pissed with himself. Who better to take that out on than Adam?

"You're being a real prick, you know that, Banks?" When Adam didn't even look at him he got up and stormed across the room to stand in front of the television set. Adam glanced up into his eyes, the lack of concern on his face only fueling Charlie's building rage. He threw his nearly empty bottle at Adam's chest, feeling a small measure of accomplishment when the last few drops splashed out onto the preppy blue polo shirt and his stubble covered chin. "I know you're angry and you're sad and you're fucked up and you're doing a great job of playing the part but Christ almighty, man." He held up his hands, watching as Adam began to seeth in the seat. He didn't care at this point. It was all going on the table. "What? You're going to push your friends away." He was really on a roll now.

If you asked Charlie's friends to describe him, mellow was most always one of the first words to come to mind. It would be right before or after spastic. His fuse was longer than most, but when you hit the end of it, it was a hell of a job to put out the fire. Angrier than he realized he was, he took a step forward and bent over to shove a finger in Adam's face.

"You dumped Kimball, and she was the best thing that's ever happened to you. You quit hockey, which has always been the only thing you've ever been passionate about. Now you're acting like this? You want to end up alone, Banks?" He shot his finger forward, digging it deep into Adam's chest. "Well keep it up, asshole."

A long moment passed where Adam sat perfectly still, staring up into Charlie's glinting green eyes. Charlie's cheeks were splotchy red, the anger radiating out of him in waves. When Adam finally spoke, his voice was deadly soft.

"Back off, Conway."

Charlie lowered his voice to a growl. "Make me."

Adam stood up quickly, their feet so close together that their toes were touching. When he shot to his full height, matching that of Charlie, their chests bumped together, throwing Charlie off balance. He took a step back to regain his footing, but Banks was right with him, his face so close it was a blur.

"You want to fight, Charlie?" His voice rising to a shout he planted his palms on his friend's chest and shoved hard. "Well c'mon then! Maybe a good fight's **exactly** what I need."

Charlie stumbled back again. He felt the heat rising in his face. He and Adam had been friends for years. They had squabbled and they had stopped speaking for a few days here and there, but there had never been anything between them that had caused a physical fight. He was pissed, but he didn't want to hit his friend. With Adam's current state of mind, he had a sinking feeling that if they went there, there would never be any going back.

His back up against the wall, Charlie stared at the man he had known for most of his life and realized that he barely saw a glimmer of Adam Banks in the cold eyes across from him. Well if a fight was what Banks needed, well then by God he was going to get it.

"You're attitude is fucking over the line. Don't shove me again, Banks." He took a step forward, his eyes narrowed to slits. "You don't want to go there."

Fire flashed into Adam's eyes and quick as a rattlesnake he shot out his hands, hitting Charlie in the shoulders and shoving him so hard that he bounced against the wall, bruising his shoulder blades and then bounced back off again. Letting the momentum carry him forward, he dropped his head and aimed for Adam's mid-section.

His head against Adam's stomach, he wrapped his arms around his slim waist and pushed them both back towards the center of the room where he wouldn't have his back to a wall and where he could give himself a fighting chance.

As the coffee table tumbled over under their feet, empty beer bottles rolling across the plush carpeting, the first punch was thrown.

Adam bent his knees, making a fist and driving it upwards into Charlie's guts. Charlie had felt it coming, though, and sucked in his toned stomach muscles so that the punch hurt but didn't knock the breath out of him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, behind the heat of the moment, he was dimly aware of thinking _I can't believe this is happening_.

Pushing the thought aside and reacting purely on instinct, he came up swinging, sickly pleased when his knuckled connected with Adam's chin. He heard the crack and felt the blood from the split lip hit his skin.

Adam let out a howl of pain and anger. Totally lost in the moment he let his own punch fly and grunted when he felt Charlie's face under his curled fingers.

Pain radiated through Charlie's right eye and he saw stars for a brief moment. "God **dammit**, Banks!" He made a move to hit back, but with his vision still blurry and his head already pounding his blow glanced off of Adam's cheek as the blond boy turned into the movement. The next thing Charlie knew he was in a headlock and they were both screaming obscenities at each other.

It was at that emotion packed moment that the door to the suite flew open, surprising them both into a stunned pause. They stood locked in an awkward embrace, Adam's arm sqeezing tightly around Charlie's neck, forcing the latter to stand bent at the knees, one arm wrapped around Adam's waist to keep himself upright and to keep Banks from choking him. His other hand was fisted in Bank's shirt. Blood dripped from Adam's nose freely and his lip was split wide open. Charlie was already getting a black eye and a welt on his cheekbone.

They stood frozen in the moment, both panting and staring at the four men crowded in the doorway staring back at them.

Fulton was the first to speak. "When you two are done seeing who has the biggest dick, do you think maybe we can get this Dude's Weekend underway?"

* * *

Adam stared for what seemed like an eternity, hyper-aware of the fact that all of the fight had drained out of him. The reality of what had just happened started to sink in and with a sighed oath he let go abruptly of Charlie's neck. Backing up a step he wiped his forearm under his nose and held up his hands, palms out. "Christ."

He looked over at Charlie, who was still standing hunched over, his hands on his knees. At Adam's curse he glanced up. "No kidding." He stood up, stretching his stomach muscles which were still quivering, and reached up to gingerly prod the area around his swelling eye. "You pack a hell of a punch, buddy."

Adam couldn't help but smile. "Buddy?" He gestured at the upturned table and the mess they had created. "After all of that you're still going to call me buddy?"

Charlie shrugged, the placid look on his face pure Conway. "If you can't pound on your best friend to take out some frustration, well then, what has this world come to?"

"Well said, Spazway." Averman took a tentative step into the room, toeing a broken bottle out of his way. "It was nice of you to let Adam kick your ass."

Adam moved closer to Charlie and held out his hand. His eyes on his best friend's he tried out a rueful smile for the first time in weeks. "I didn't kick his ass. I'd say it was a pretty fair fight." He held out a hand. "I'm sorry, Conway."

Charlie grabbed Adam's hand and pulled him into a tight embrace. "As long as you stop sulking now you can consider it my pleasure."

"Jesus, are two going to make out?" Fulton Reed grinned as his dropped his bag on the floor with a loud thud. He shook his head as he surveyed the mess littering the floor. "You guys have either drunk or broken ever beer in the room."

Guy shook his head sadly. "Well now, that just won't do." He reached out and clapped a hand on Les Averman's shoulder. "Ave, why don't you run out and get us some more?"

As Averman sputtered a protest, Adam looked around at them all - Fulton leaned against the door jam, his arms crossed, Goldberg snagging a chip from an opened bag on the counter, and Les and Guy bickering just inside the door. He cleared his throat. "Uh, not that I'm not thrilled to see you all, but…" he looked to Charlie, "what are you all doing here?"

Fulton signed, rolling his dark eyes. "Didn't you hear me earlier? It's **Dudes** Weekend and we're the dudes. We thought you might be able to use a little fun with the original Ducks."

Adam felt a smile slide across his lips and was surprised to realize that it felt genuine. He was truly glad to see them all. He looked over at Charlie. "You did this?"

A huge grin on his bruised face, his friend shoved his hands in his pockets, a look of self-satisfaction annoyingly etched across his visage. "Who else?"

**

* * *

Johnny: You stay out of my story and leave Banks alone! I have a fondness for him after this story that I didn't have before!**

**Hockey-girl90**: Good suggestion. Consider it used and you credited!

**harumscarum**: I have such a hard time with Jesse. Maybe I'll give him another try sometime soon. Think about it and if you get a story idea for him, let me know!


	29. Seize the Moment

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

**Author Note: The document manager was being crazy when I was uploading and kept copy/pasting bits of lines here and there and changing things to italics that weren't supposed to be that way. Sorry for any whacky errors!**

* * *

"Goldie, seriously. I'm embarrassed for you." Fulton spun around on his skates, gliding backwards, facing Greg as he labored through the Southern California park. 

Goldberg continued to huff and puff, but managed to suck up enough energy to look hurt and glare around at all of his "friends" who were visibly laughing at him. "Why is a leisurely skate with my buddies always a reason for you all to make fun of how out of shape I am?"

Charlie looked absently over his shoulder. "It's part of your charm, you being out of shape." He smiled apologetically. "Our skates wouldn't be the same without this fun-filled aspect."

Guy skated up and slid an arm around his friend's shoulders. "You know we love you, buddy."

Goldberg shoved him forcibly off and Guy had to pinwheel his arms to keep from losing balance. "Whatever, Germaine." But he was grinning, equally as aware as the rest that they were all playing right into the typical dynamic of their friendship.

Adam had been quiet for most of the afternoon, but somewhere between lunch and being drug out for an afternoon skate, he had felt the tension of the past several months begin to slide out of his muscles. Being with his friends, falling into old patterns, it was easy not to forget everything that had happend, but to put it all in perspective. He was still Adam Banks. He still had all of the wonderful friends he had counted on his whole life. He could still be happy.

He mirrored Fulton's earlier move and while still gliding over the cement spun around to skate backwards. "I'm really glad you guys all came out. I really needed this."

"Needed a good fist fight with Charlie?" Averman raised his eyebrows skeptically. They skirted around a group of college girls who stared openly at them they all preened a bit before Adam responded.

"No," he glanced over at Charlie, who was grinning, "but I think that certainly helped." He hopped over a bench and reveled in how alive he felt when his feet slammed back against the concrete. "Just being with friends, getting back to being myself." He reddened a bit at the admission. Fulton, of course, didn't help.

Wiping a hand beneath his dark brown eyes, Fulton sniffed dramatically. "I love you too, cakeeater!" He sobbed hysterically before rolling his eyes. "Dude, we're your friends. Of course we were going to come out and set you straight." He looked pointedly at Charlie, who shook his head back and forth violently, stopping quickly when he realized that Adam was looking right at him.

Adam narrowed his eyes, slowing down a bit. "What?"

They were possibly the worst group of liars on the planet. Charlie had turned red, widening his eyes and looking away. Fulton glowered and shrugged his shoulders. Guy had stopped and was focusing intently on what appeared to be absolutely nothing on the side of the path. Averman was staring up at the sky and Goldberg was looking everywhere but at Adam and whistling. Whistling, for God's sake.

Adam rolled his eyes. "You guys are ridiculous. What now?"

They had come to the outer edge of the park and continued down a wide sidewalk that ran near the beach. The sound of waves was barely discernible in the distance and the salty spray hanging in the air began to stick to their sweaty skin. Adam sighed and raised his voice a fraction. "Spill it."

Averman, always the Duck most lacking in tact, suddenly blurted out what they had all been thinking but had been avoiding discussing with Adam. "You quit hockey. What the hell are you going to do now? You ruined your career."

"Averman!" Charlie, never losing his stride, bent down to scoop up a small pebble, and tossed it back to smack Les in the forehead. "Damn." He looked out of his peripheral vision and caught Adam watching the pavement below him. "Banks, I know that Averman put it in a less than lyrical fashion, but, uh, what are you going to do? Hockey has been your life since…" he pretended to count on his fingers, "…well, since forever."

He had made a mistake. Adam knew that. He had known it the minute he had refused to sign the contract. And if he hadn't known it then, his agent had made it abundantly clear in his ranting phone call. But once the decision had been made, no amount of knowing it was a mistake could fight through the numbness he had been experiencing to motivate him to action to rectify the error he had made. Just thinking about hockey, or the lack thereof in his upcoming life, had his breath heaving a bit in his lungs. He inhaled deeply several times, finding it hard to look at the other guys.

"The scary part is that I'm pretty sure Averman is right." He glanced back and smiled sardonically at Les, whose mouth was agape. "I'm pretty sure that I've effectively ruined my illustrious professional career."

Charlie snorted. "Please. You can't possible think that pretty much any team with some money to spare wouldn't sign you right now."

"Seriously." Guy raised his hands and shook them impressively. "You're Adam freaking Banks." He gestured around at the group. "You've always been the best of all of us. Hell, you're one of the greatest hockey players of the past fifteen years."

Adam smiled at the compliment, not entirely sure that it was true, not surprised at all when Charlie started coughing rather theatrically. "Excuse me?" He looked around at Guy. "I'm not really sure that it's completely accurate to say that he's always been the best of us like the rest of us are chopped liver, you know?" He brushed an imaginary speck off of his shoulder. "I mean, several of us were an integral part of the Goodwill Games and all those state championships we won." He coughed again.

Fulton rolled his eyes and reached up to tighten the bandanna he still insisted on wearing over his now more modest cheekbone length black hair. "Stuff it, Spazway. We're working on Adam's ego today." He grinned. "We can compliment you tomorrow." He smiled. "Besides, I'd say your ego is in no need of any buffing up."

"Me?" Charlie held his arms out. "I'm pretty modest, if I do say so myself."

Adam was laughing and couldn't help but put in a comment. "I'm pretty sure that people who would be defined as modest don't usually use the words 'if I do say so myself,' Charlie."

Braking to a stop, Charlie grinned, looking rather pleased with himself. "Whatever." He shrugged as they all stopped around him. "We can debate who's a better hockey player later, sometime after we finish discussing what you're going to do to get your career back." Adam started to protest but Charlie shushed him with a warning look. "But right now, we're more concerned about another aspect of your life." He looked up at the building they had coasted up to the base of.

Adam let his eyes travel up the expanse of the ocean front high-rise and felt realization begin to dawn on him. He looked around their group and wondered how they had traveled this far and to this specific building without him realizing the path they were taking. _Charlie is good._

Adam stared over at his best-friend, completely aware of the fact that pretty much all color had drained out of his already fair skin. "Look, this has all been really good, but you know…" he gulped once. "Baby steps, right? Isn't that what they say?"

Charlie crossed his arms, his eyes steely. "What **who** says?" He grinned wickedly. "We're your friends and **we** say you need to just rip the band-aid off all in one fell swoop."

"As much as it pains me to say it, Charlie is right." Guy nodded sagely. "You need to do this Adam. You need to do it…like, yesterday."

Adam again looked up the building and signed, knowing already that his friends wouldn't drop the subject until he was doing exactly what they thought was best. Even if it killed him.

"You can't possibly expect me to just go up there totally unannounced without calling or anything?"

"What is it with you and calling first?!?" Charlie's voice rose in exasperation as he threw his arms up and skated forward. He got behind Adam and gave a forceful shove towards the door. "Seize the moment, Banks."

_

* * *

Seize the moment._ Adam was in the elevator, on his way up to the fifteenth floor, replaying Charlie's last words in his mind._ **Seize the moment.**_ He glared at his blurry reflection in the stainless steel doors._ I'll seize Charlie's neck. That would be good._ He laughed._ Seize the moment. What a stupid saying._

The red numbers clicked over to ten and he groaned. Trying to get an idea of how he looked, he squinted again at his likeness. It was nearly impossible to see himself, but he was pretty sure he looked disgusting. His hair was probably sticking out in ever direction from the past thirty seconds of running his hands through it. His shirt was sweaty and sticking to his chest and back. The sheer amount of sweat present was probably more than enough to give him a distinctly disgusting order. _Yeah, some moment I'm seizing here._

"Ding."

The sound of the elevator reaching its destination seemed akin to a death bell tolling for Adam. He poked his head out through the doors and glanced up and down the hallway to see if anyone was around to see him make a fool of himself. When he was convinced that he was alone he skated slowly out and made a left, making his way to the last door on the floor.

Staring for a long time at the door he felt his breathing grow more and more shallow as he tried to will himself calm. He didn't know what he was doing here. Yes, he was feeling more like himself, but wasn't this really a lot of progress for one weekend? Considering where he'd been mentally earlier that morning while pounding on Charlie's face, he was pretty sure this was way the hell too much. _Damn that Conway._ Maybe he needed another black eye for this. Adam sighed and ran his hands through his tousled hair for the hundredth time.

"Shit." He began getting angry at himself for being such a wuss. _C'mon, Adam. Just do it. Knock on the damn door._

He raised his curled fist, but immediately got cold feet and pulled it back to shove into his hair again. His frustration with himself was unbelievable. "Shit!" _**Do it!**_

Taking one long deep breath Adam nodded resolutely. "Here goes."

He raised his hand again and just before his knuckles could make contact with the wood grain the door was pulled inward. Adam yanked his hand back and sucked in a breath audibly.

When she saw him she jumped in surprise, hugging her purse to her chest before realizing who was in her doorway. Recognition dawned. She was all flaming red curls and big green eyes when she whispered his name. "Adam…" her voice trailed off, disbelief heavy in her tone.

Adam felt emotions rush through him, but pure unadulterated love was the one that hit him hardest. He smiled. "Hi, Kimball."

**

* * *

Johnny: Hope this is enough sense knocked into Adam for you! **

**Hockey-girl90**: I can always count on you for help!

**Joshysgirl**: Thanks! Glad you're enjoying. I updated two days in a row. Maybe that's what threw you?

**LadyJea**: That is the ultimate compliment. THANK YOU! When I find a story I really like I stick with it, so I appreciate you sticking with me despite my totally unpredictable updating dependability!

**Pitaqueen**: Interesting suggestions for Jesse. Thanks! I tried to write him into this chapter somehow, but I find I have trouble with him, much like Connie…

**Just a fan**: You are TOO good to me. Thank you so much! Have you written any fanfics on here? I'd love to read! If you're looking for someone to run stuff by before publishing, I'd love to help. Let me know! As for Devin and Annemarie, I'm getting stuck on them too! HELP! Where would you like to see them go? I've got a plot for Devin, but I'm not sure what to do until I get ready for that to start happening….sigh!


	30. Door Wide Open

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Silence hung in the hallway, pressing against them and drawing the moment out for what felt like an eternity. While completely uncomfortable, the pause gave Adam the chance to look Kimball over.

She was poised half in and half out of her apartment door – **their** apartment door a few weeks ago. Her perfect little feet were wrapped in cork wedge heels with kelly green canvas the color of Irish moors and Kimball's eye. She wore slim fitting jeans that clung to her hips and tiny waist and for the summer heat she had put on a thin scrap of material passing as a shiny silk tank top in purple with a green sash tied behind her back. Her alabaster skin was fresh and impossibly smooth and her hair seemed to have somehow grown immensely longer in just barely a month. It was tumbling around her shoulders, loose and curly, catching the light from the window at the end of the hallway, the glow bouncing off like it was a prism.

Across from him, close enough to touch, Kimball sucked in a tiny breath and Adam's gaze fell on her face. Her eyes were locked on him, wide and a little scared, and her bottom lip was trembling ever so slightly. The way she was looking at him, the sadness was plain on her face.

He had saved her life, sure, but in that one look he could see everything he had put her through since the night that was etched in his mind. He could see that night too, but it was becoming a memory instead of a living nightmare. To see her look at him like that, for the very first time he was completely sure that he had lost her forever.

Adam's heart shattered.

* * *

Kimball had known that Charlie and the other boys were in town. She had been talking to Beau pretty regularly over the past few weeks. It was cute really. Beau and her had become friends some time ago, separate of the men they were with, but it was nice to have a friend check up on her so often.

Even knowing that Charlie was on a mission to get through to Adam, she had never in a million years imagined that she would find him on the other side of her door any time soon. Truth be told, while she had faith in the friendship between the boys, she did not have faith in what was left between her and Adam. She knew that every time he looked at her he saw that horrible night. She wasn't sure that any bond could overcome that. In her heart of hearts, thought it had hurt physically to think it, she had never expected to see him again.

And here he was. Sweaty, his hair sticking out in multiple directions from the wind and his hands running through it, no doubt. He wore basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. It clung to his chest muscles which rose up and down steadily as he watched her intently. His fair skin was splotchy from exertion, his dark eyes standing out in stark contrast. And it was his eyes that finally shook her from the paralysis that had taken over her body upon seeing him. It was like he was looking into her heart and she felt her whole body warm under his gaze.

Staring back at him, Kimball's heart soared.

* * *

Feeling everything he had gained back that day slipping away without even a word, Adam forced himself to speak. "Kimball, I…" He realized he had no idea what to say. All that time in the elevator, all the seconds staring at her, and he hadn't thought of one damned thing to say.

He looked at her again, all dressed up, hair shining, her purse and keys in hand and forcibly remembered that he hadn't had to knock on her door. She had been on her way out.

With a heavy sigh and his shoulders slumping, he pursed his lips. "You were on your way out." It was a statement, not a question.

Kimball stared back at him for another eternity. Shaking her head she seemed to snap out of a trance. She looked down at her own body and nodded a bit at her purse and keys. She looked back up. "Yeah."

Adam nodded, his face falling even further. "I shouldn't have bothered you. I…" he looked at her, down at his skates, and then back towards the elevator. "Charlie thought that I should…" He raised his hands and let them drop. "You've probably got a date or…" He couldn't seem to get a full thought out. Finally with his voice soft and crushed, he started to turn away. "I'm sorry. I'll just go."

He was almost out of reach, his heart hammering in his chest, his skin heating with embarrassment, when he felt a feather-light touch on his arm. He jerked his head around, eyes hopeful. Kimball had taken a step forward and reached out to lay soft fingertips against his skin. The electricity where they touched was almost painful.

She tried out a tiny smile while his eyes bore into her. "I was going shopping." She nudged the door open with her hip and pressed her lips together for a brief second. "Do you want to come in and talk?"

Like earlier in the day, Adam let a genuine smile play on his lips and marveled at how fantastic it felt. He nodded. "Yeah, I really do."

* * *

"I've got to go soon."

"Mmm. Hmm," Devin murmured against Annemarie's lips, only pulling her tighter against him. He nipped at her bottom lip, letting his hands run up her back and slide into her thick black hair.

She giggled a little, kissing him back deeply before putting her hands on his chest and pushing away. It was hard to do considering that she was lying under the full weight of his body, pressed between him and the bed.

"Devin, seriously!" She laughed though, knowing she wasn't doing much to get herself up and moving. "I've got rehearsal in an hour." He pulled his head back, grinned wickedly, and then let his brow rest against hers, his blue eyes sparking, the mirror image of hers.

"Hey, it's not my fault you can't resist my charms." That said, he lowered his mouth again and slipped his tongue teasingly between her lips.

Getting lost again in the moment, Annemarie pulled her hands away from his chest and moved them up to play with the curls at the base of his neck. She loved the boyishness of them and, feeling her heartbeat quicken, she pulled him closer.

It was Devin who pulled away this time, his breathing a little heavy, his eyes now serious. He looked at her for a long time. "Annemarie, I…" He stopped, unsure of himself, but so sure of what he wanted to say. He wasn't worried about saying it…it was Annemarie's reaction that had him terrified.

Devin knew that every time he saw her his day felt better. He knew that the sound of her voice on the phone could have his heart racing, even after speaking every day for several months. He knew that he felt about her like he had never felt about someone before. He wanted her to know. _Deep breaths, Dev._

He reached up a hand and brushed his knuckles gently across her soft skin, tucking a hair behind her ear. He would have blushed furiously if he had recognized it for the same thing Charlie did with Beau all the time. He was most certainly his adopted dad's son.

Laying his palm flat against her cheek, he smiled. "I love you."

The words came out in a rush of breath and Annemarie smiled broadly, half charmed by the fear she heard in his voice and half floored to hear him say the words. She had been hoping he would, because she didn't want the vulnerable position of saying it first, but she had known she needed him to hear the sentiment soon. Without hesitation she raised her hand up to his face. "I love you too, Devin."

Devin bit the inside of his cheek hard, making sure he was awake, and then a grin slowly spread across his very serious face. He leaned down and pecked Annemarie quickly on the lips. He kissed again, immediately responding when she opened her mouth to his.

Wrapping his arms around her waist he rolled, flipping under her and reversing their positions. Now his hands were free to roam down her back. He let his palms rest at her hips and his thumbs slid just barely under the waistband of her jeans. He had no intentions of going any further. He just wanted to feel her skin and his fingertips tingled in hot response.

That was how Beau found them.

* * *

Walking down the hall in her super soft most comfortable slippers, jeans, and a cut up and worn out Pennington sweatshirt, Beau was distracted by the fantastic report card she had in her hand. Devin had aced all of his classes, and the A+ in AP English 11 had her proud beyond all belief.

With the twins down for a nap, she was going to take a much needed break in the living room with a new album from The Almost, the liner notes, and a huge glass of diet coke. She sighed just thinking of a few minutes to herself, but she still wanted to congratulated Devin first.

She knew he was in his room with Annemarie, presumably helping her run her lines for the production of _High School Musical_ in which she had scored the lead. It was a Detroit City Theatre production, complete with big corporate sponsors, major sets, and thousands of seats being sold. She was playing Gabriella, and Devin was supposed to be reading the part of Troy to help her get ready for her rehearsal later that evening.

Padding down the plush carpeted hall towards his bedroom on the second floor, Beau re-read the comments from some of Dev's teachers.

_Devin is an absolute joy to have in class. His wit and input always make lessons more interesting and thought provoking._

_Devin has a talent for writing. I hope to see him pursue this more next year in AP English 12._

_One of my best students. A pleasure to teach_.

Having been a very dedicated student, and having had a twin brother who was the favorite pet of every teacher he ever encountered, Beau was no stranger to such comments. But seeing them in reference to Devin, a boy she thought of entirely as her son, had her beaming. Maybe she would see if they could get a baby-sitter for the next night and they could take him out to a celebratory dinner after they picked Charlie up from the airport.

Smiling at the thought, she turned the corner to Devin's room, looked up, and froze completely in place, her mouth wide open.

Annemarie was lying on top of Devin on the bed, their bodies so close together it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. A soft groan of shock slid from her open mouth before she could stop it.

When Annemarie heard Beau's sound of surprise from the doorway, she arched back from Devin, her head whipping around to stare at the woman gawking back at them. Her face instantly reddened and she desperately wanted to jump up, but her limbs seemed to be betraying her.

Devin, for his part, had gone completely still like a deer before an oncoming car. His thumbs were still slid under the edge of Annemarie's jeans, his hair disheveled and in his eyes. He bit his bottom lip and stared a Beau standing in his door, holding his report card. He was painfully reminded of the look on Mr. Forsell's face when in had caught them in the car recently.

He looked at Beau a little longer, hoping she'd snap out of the creepy trance she seemed to be in. Thankfully she blinked several times, closed her mouth, and plastered a smile on her face.

"Hey, guys." She frantically waved the paper in her hand a little too enthusiastically and part of it ripped. "Uh, Devin. You're report card came. Great job. I'll just uh…" She looked around. "Annemarie, don't you have a rehearsal you need to get to?" She waved at them a bit frantically. "I'll just head down the hall, check on Riley and Chase and then be downstairs." She said it with a hint of an ominous tone and hated herself for it.

_Get a grip, Beau. They were making out, totally __**clothed**__, door wide __**open**_ She had been caught in nearly the same position with Pete Gosling her sophomore year and her father had nearly blown a gasket. She remembered that her reaction had been to sneak off somewhere else and continue making out with him.

_Okay, Beau, breathe. Devin's a good kid, just like you were._ Backing into the hall with a little wave, she rolled her eyes as she walked dazedly towards the nursery. _Someone's going to have to give him the talk, and it sure as hell is __**not**__ going to be me._

Back in his room, Devin huffed out a breath he had been holding and smiled at Annemarie, who looked shell-shocked and completely embarrassed. "We're **really** going to have to get her some louder shoes."

**

* * *

Johnny: Yup, Adam is well on his way to "normal."**

**Hockey-girl90**: Glad you enjoyed it! Sorry I didn't update a little sooner. I've been having computer problems and have been working LONG hours!

**Donna79**: Yeah, I should write more cliffhangers. I love them, but then I feel compelled to write the next chapter IMMEDIATELY, which I hardly ever have time for! Sigh. Anyway, hope Adam is about back to where you like him. Also glad you liked the right. I'm rather fond of it myself, and I have a soft spot for Fulton, so I'm glad you liked his entrance. He seemed kind of "him" I hope.

**Secret** **Places**: I know, the alerts have been wacky lately. Glad you enjoyed, hope you consider Adam considerably kicked back into his proper place!

**Joshysgirl**: "Thank God for Spazway and his ego." I am SO using that line in this story sometime soon! In fact, I think I have a good place in mind, coming up fairly soon. THANKS!

**Cc**: Thanks for the loyalty. Right back atcha!

**Pitaqueen**: A Girls Weekend, hm? I'm actually having one of those this weekend while my husband is out of town. Maybe I'll get some inspiration… Thanks for the suggestion!

**Just a Fan**: I'll have to check out some of your stuff! Can't wait. Love the DPS reference. Glad you caught it. I'm such a huge fan of that movie. I have a friend who was an extra in the Midsummer Night's Dream scene. She said it was awesome in person!

**RedLA**: GREAT idea. SO taking it. Here ye, here ye….please note that the fantastic idea of Devin and Annemarie getting more physical and Beau finding out is credited to RedLa, who rocks my socks!


	31. Sucker

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

There was a feeling in the air between them that told them both that everything was going to be okay. The way that Kimball was looking at Adam, he knew that she had already forgiven him. But that didn't negate the fact that there were things that needed to be said. Knowing how hard it would be to say them, it made them both uncomfortable. 

Not quite ready to bare his soul, Adam looked around, searching for a topic of conversation. He glanced back at Kimball where she stood just inside the door. "The place looks good."

She scrunched up her forehead the way that she often did, and glanced around as if she had missed something. "It looks the same, Adam." It wasn't said unkindly. "You left everything when you went." That statement carried a weight that reminded Adam this maybe wasn't the time for small talk. He gestured to the couch.

"Can we sit down?"

Nodding rapidly as if she had forgotten she was standing, Kimball moved slowly to the comfortable leather couch they had picked out together and lowered herself to perch on the edge. Adam sat down next to her, but made a conscious effort to keep his distance. As much as he wanted to get his hands on her, he needed to get a few things off of his chest first.

For a long time he simply rolled one skate back and forth, watching the tread it made in the carpet and trying to formulate a coherent and moving sentence in his head. When he wasn't doing that, he was cursing Charlie for getting him into this situation totally unprepared.

But then Adam looked up and into Kimball's eyes and the world, after what felt like time without end, settled back on its axis. He reached out his hand to cover hers where it rested on her knee, but then pulled back and let his palm drop to the couch between them.

"Kimball," he tried to put everything he was feeling into the right words. "I am **so** sorry." It was so trite, and so pathetically not enough. Adam shook his head, disgusted with himself. Kimball opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand, pleading silently with her to let him finish. "I don't even know how to say what I'm feeling. It's like I've made the worst mistake of my life. Every time I think about walking out that door all those nights ago, I feel like I'm…" He shook his head again and gestured vaguely to his stomach. "I feel empty inside."

He fell silent and Kimball looked at him long and hard. "Adam, I thought part of the problem after you…" she was going to say 'shot him,' but knew in her heart that it wasn't the right thing to say. "I thought that that **was** the whole problem. That after that night you felt empty…numb."

Adam clenched his jaw and shook his head. "I did. But leaving you," he ran a hand through his already messy hair and sent pieces spiking across his forehead. "I wasn't prepared for what I felt when I left. I was already numb, but this was so much worse."

"It hurt." Kimball pointed at her chest. "Right here." Adam nodded silently at her. She rubbed a hand subconsciously over her shirt there. "I felt it too. It was like being suffocated from the inside out."

Frustrated, unsure, and touched all at the same time, Kimball felt conflicted and antsy and could sit still no longer. Standing up, wringing her hands, she asked the question she had been dreading hearing the answer to. "Adam, I love you, and I can't imagine living my life without you and feeling this way every day, but I have to know…" She became deadly still. "Can you ever look at me and not remember that night? Can you look at me and just see me?"

Adam stood up and took both of Kimball's hands in his own. "Kimball, for the past month, **everywhere** I look I see you." He reached up to touch her face. "I only see you."

When his head dropped down, Kimball was already rising on her toes. Their lips met and Adam couldn't stop a sigh as he felt an immense weight lifting off of him. He kissed her softly at first and then yanked her against him. He reveled in feeling the way she fit to his body and on another sigh he pulled back just slightly. "I love you, Kimball."

* * *

Downstairs and not quite a hundred yards from Kimball's building, Charlie and the others were lounging in the sun, enjoying the fact that they were doing absolutely nothing. 

Guy was under a tall tree, his back against the trunk, staring up in to the leaves, no doubt contemplating shadows, nature, and probably life in general. _Or_, Charlie mused, _he's just picturing Connie naked._

Fulton was sound asleep next to Guy, flat out on his back, hands crossed over his chest, looking very much like a corpse all dressed and waiting to be plopped into his coffin. If, of course, someone was going to be dressed for burial in track pants and a wifebeater.

Goldberg had found his way to a snow cone vendor down the block and appeared to be digging in his pockets for change. Charlie laughed, imagining him as the little kid he had known so well, and felt ridiculously nostalgic.

Looking around for Averman, he was surprised to find him back at the two girls sunbathing they had seen earlier. Since graduating college, getting a full time job, and settling into his adult life, Les had begun to have this quiet confidence that was both exciting and strange to see. This was the second time in as many get-togethers that Charlie had seen him approach someone of the opposite sex and it was interesting to watch. He seemed comfortable as he talked to them, his hands gesturing broadly, a huge smile on his face. And shock upon shock…_The girls are buying it. Damn._

As for himself, Charlie was sprawled out on a wooden bench, his feet rolled way out to stretch his muscles, his arms thrown over the backrest. He was in prime position for getting as much sun as possible on his pasty northern skin. He was just closing his eyes to drift off when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Worrying that it would be Adam, he checked his watch and noted that it was way too soon for him to be done talking with Kimball.

He closed his eyes, willed it to be anyone but Adam, and then peeked with one pupil to see 'Conway Crew' flashing at him from the screen. It was home.

Smiling, he flipped the top up and hoped for Beau. "Dr. Phil Conway, at your service."

A long suffering sigh was his response. "You're a dork, you know that, right?" It was, indeed, Beau. Charlie couldn't help but laugh.

"I think my dorkiness has been long established, so yes, I'm aware." He clicked his tongue at her knowingly. "But you love it."

Again with a sigh, but he could hear the smile in her voice. "Yes, I suppose I do."

At the house in Michigan, Beau sat on the kitchen counter watching the twins quietly stacking blocks on the floor. Without warning, Murphy charged at the back door and started barking furiously. She hollered at him to cool it, but when he looked at her with his big droopy eyes she hopped up. There was a slight commotion before she spoke more. "Sorry, had to let him out. He's been a real pain lately. Always barking at the back fence, wanting out a lot at night." The door in their house shut audibly. "So, I'm guessing from the fact that you're likening yourself to that quack Dr. Phil that you've fixed Adam?"

Even knowing she wouldn't see it, Charlie couldn't resist popping the shoulder of his shirt. "Consider him fixed, my dear." He looked up at the reflective windows of the condo unit and smiled. "Due to my admirable resolve and refusal to let him act like a total dick, he is happy, acting human again, figuring out what to do about hockey, and is currently making nice with one Miss Kimball McGuillicuddy." He marveled at his own genius. "I'm the best friend ever."

In a completely monotone voice, Beau answered. "Well, thank God for Spazway and his ego." She scoffed at him. "You're a real piece of work, Conway, but congrats on your success as a best-friend." Sobering, she smiled again. "Seriously, though. Good job, babe. Glad to hear Adam is back to being Adam."

"So how are things at home? All the kids?" Now he did close his eyes, letting his head drop back, feeling the sun start to warm his cheeks.

"Riley and Chase are good. Chase was bee-lining for the cat earlier today and tripped over Riley, who was laying on the floor pretending to be a snake, I think, and busted his forehead right on the hard wood. So, I'm bolting across the room, he sits up…and here's how I know he's your son...and he looks at me, shakes his head once, and gets up and takes off again. Meanwhile, a welt is already popping out on his tiny little noggin."

Charlie laughed, able to perfectly picture it. "Hard headed like his dad, huh?"

They talked for a minute more about the couple of new words that Riley had tried out and then without any warning at all, Beau dropped a bomb.

"You need to have a sex talk with Devin."

Charlie's eyes popped wide open in shock, and the way his head was tilted he was staring straight at the sun. Squinting furiously, he sat up quickly, and bobbled his phone, watching through watery vision as it bounced off the ground.

Scrambling after it he snatched it up and stood up quickly, jamming it against his ear, his breath huffing from the hurry. "Sorry. Dropped the phone. I thought you said something about…" He couldn't quite bring himself to say it. "What was it you said?"

Beau gave him a meaningful 'tsk tsk.' "You heard me, Charlie."

He took several long breaths. "Right. Sex talk. Devin." He tugged on a curl that had fallen over his eyes and scrunched up his face, already knowing he was going to get yelled at. "Yeah. **So** not going to happen."

"Charlie! You are the man in our family. Or the closest thing to it. It's your job!"

"I'm not equipped, Beau!"

She laughed in annoyance, a smirk dropping onto her lips. "Oh, you've claimed to be plenty well equipped in the past, my friend."

Calming down a bit, she had the presence of mind to peek around the corner to make sure that Devin was still up in his bedroom working on his drills sheet for the kids soccer team he was coaching over the summer. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I caught him and Annemarie making out in his bedroom the other day."

She could almost feel Charlie's shrug come through the phone. "They're seventeen-year-old kids, Beau. I was making out with any girl who'd have me at that point."

Beau rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the visual." She peeked around the corner again, feeling ridiculous. She was a mom, for God's sake. "This wasn't sitting on the couch making out, Charlie. It was lying on top of each other on the bed, groping, making out." She thought about it for a long moment, realizing for the millionth time in the past few years that being a parent was harder than everything else she would ever do in her life combined. She had gone back and forth on how she felt about Devin and, gasp, sex. Even now, she wasn't sure she had come to any kind of decision.

"I just think you need to make sure he knows to be safe. And to not rush into anything. And…" She remembered the fist time she met him on a plane, five years before, and how little and absolutely wonderful he had been. "He needs to know that he can always talk to us about that kind of stuff."

Rolling his eyes up to heaven Charlie groaned. "Fine. I'll talk to him when I get back."

Beau laughed. "Sucker." She hung up.

**

* * *

Johnny:** Adam and Kimball, all made up. Just for you! 

**Pitaqueen**: I love Devin so much I sometimes forget he's not of the same group as Charlie and the others. Glad to get him back to being 17. Thanks for the reminder!

**Hockey-girl90**: Computer seems back on track with my plans for writing more, so hopefully this will be the first of many updates. Fingers crossed!

**SleepyGoof07**: Hilarity is promised for Charlie's attempt at "the talk." What else, right?

**Joshysgirl**: You have officially been quoted. Thanks! Also, got your message and was viewing your profile and was beyond excited to see your Sandlot quotes. I feel in love with it about the same time I fell in love with the first MD movie. I could probably act the entire thing out as a one-woman show (with accurate voices) if asked to do so!

**Just a fan**: Seriously. She said it was the best time. And yes, Annemarie got the part of Gabriella. I actually just took my niece to see a local production of HSM. It was really well done. Have you seen the Zac Efron is going to play Link in Hairspray the movie re-make. Looks like he does a great job. As for me, my favorite musicals are Rent (obviously), Wicked, and probably Miss Saigon.

**Sinbin05**: Thanks, as usual, for your totally thorough review! To be totally honest, I haven't figured out what Adam's going to do as far as hockey. I like your Dallas suggestion, but like you said, am not sure I want to deal with what would then ensure for him and Kimball. I have also thought about having him coach for a year, but now I'm not sure I'm loving that idea. Help!

**Sphinx005**: Flatter will get you everywhere! THANKS! I'm so glad you like Beau. She is very close to my heart, so I'm always happy when people like her instead of complaining that she's a Mary Sue. As for Charlie, he is SO easy to write and fun fun fun. Glad you're enjoying. Thanks again!


	32. The Sex Talk

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Charlie drug his bag out of the back seat and dropped it heavily to the ground. He slammed the door and smiled when Adam came around from the driver's side, his hand on Reed's shoulder. 

"Fulton, thanks for coming, man. It was great to see you." They turned to each other and shook hands before embracing in a quick one-armed hug. Fulton arched an eyebrow.

"Ducks fly together, right?"

Adam and Charlie both stared at him for a silent second before they burst into hysterical laughter. Adam was the first to get it under control. "Wow. I had forgotten all about that." He looked at Charlie and tried not to start laughing again. Fulton glared at them.

"Assholes. I thought it seemed appropriately reflective." He hefted his duffle over his back and scowled.

Charlie tried desperately to sober and nodded. "Appropriately reflective." He nodded again. "That's a lot of syllables for you, dude." Then, of course, he started laughing again.

Shaking his head, Fulton shot out a palm and slapped Charlie pretty much as hard as he could on the shoulder, sadistically pleased when the latter screeched in pain and grabbed the spot that was surely going to bruise. "So glad we could have this little good-bye where you've both reverted to being 13." But his smile was genuine. "See you girls later."

Heading through a rotating door, he made his way to the US Airways counter to check-in for his flight home.

Back outside Charlie leaned against the side of Adam's SUV and ran his fingertips over his throbbing shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you got your shit in order Banks, because I'm going home all bruised and battered." He looked at his reflection in the back window, raising the brim of his hat to inspect the yellowing lump on his cheek, a reminder of Adam's fist.

With an apologetic grimace Adam nodded. "I'm still really sorry about that."

Charlie waved the apology off with a hand before grabbing Adam's shoulders and pulling him into a tight hug. He patted his back. "No worries. It was good to see you, Banks."

Adam's voice grew deep as he squeezed one more time. "Charlie…thanks."

"Ahem." Kimball has stepped out of the front passenger seat, sliding her sunglasses up onto her head. She looked down at her watch. "Charlie, you better get moving. You don't want to miss your flight."

He turned and flashed her a brilliant smile. "And suffer Beau's wrath? Yeah, no thanks."

Kimball laughed. Leaning forward she hugged Charlie fiercely and planted a kiss on his cheek. Her voice was soft so that only he could hear. "You saved my life, Charlie. Thank you."

Pulling back to look her in the eyes, he stooped a bit so that he was staring directly at her. "He would have come around on his own." He glanced over his shoulder at Adam then back at her. "He's crazy in love with you."

Finding a bit of the bravado that she had lost in the past month, Kimball winked. "I know."

* * *

"Are you upset that you weren't invited to the boy's weekend?" Darby and Cole were sprawled out on his massive couch and she wiggled her feet where they lay in his lap, hoping he might be moved to rub them. 

Pulling off one of her socks, Cole let his fingers trail up the arch of her foot and looked down at her so that she could read his lips. "Not really." She could see it. The slight crinkle of his brow that told her he wasn't upset, but feeling a little left out. "The group of guys and Beau that I played with at Pennington are my best friends. They're like family, right?"

Darby nodded. You only had to be around them all for five seconds to see the connection. Cole continued.

"But the original Ducks…they have this bond that transcends even family. Not even Beau is in on that." He dug his knuckles into the ball of her aching foot and Darby moaned in appreciation. "It was good for them all to get together for Adam. We'll just have to make a trip sometime soon to go see Mayland and Charlie and the kids." He let his fingers trail farther up her leg. "Besides, I want you to meet Devin. He is the coolest kid you've ever met."

Darby smiled back at him. She had met the Conway's only once, but loved them immensely already. It was hard not to the way that Cole talked about them. "I'd like to spend some more time with Beau."

The smile spread across his face. She knew that it would. There was a very special place in Cole Procida's heart for Beau Mayland (or Conway, which he still refused to call her). Every once in a while she got a little twinge in her heart knowing he loved her. But then he would turn and look at her, like she was the only woman in the world, and she would know that while his bond with his old friend was one that could not be competed with, he had the capacity to love very deeply outside of that bond. Probably because of it.

"Maybe you should." Cole's gentle nudge of her foot had her drawing herself back from the silent world where she had been contemplating Cole's relationship with his best friend. He looked at her and said the words again. "Maybe you should."

She looked at him quizzically. "Maybe I should what?"

He grinned his crooked grin and knocked her feet together. "Spend more time with Beau. Why don't you plan a girl's weekend?" When she just stared blankly at him he laughed. "You know. Skimpy lingerie, sharing sordid sex stories, pillow fights."

"I think what you're describing is actually a porn movie with a name like _Hockey Hussies_."

He looked back at her, very seriously, and shook his head. "Darby. Really. How could you think that?" He paused for effect. "That's a terrible name for a porn movie."

Laughing at him, Darby sat up and threw a couch pillow directly at his face. Unfortunately, his well tuned reflexes allowed him to deflect it easily. He reached over and tickled her stomach relentlessly until she signed in a flurry that she took back the thrown pillow.

Both breathing heavily, Cole pulled her into his lap and nuzzled her neck. When she sighed, he tilted his head back to look at her and smiled. "In all seriousness, though. I think a girl's weekend would be great. You'd get a chance to spend more time with Connie, Beau, and Rachel. And I bet you could even get Julie and Kimball to come."

Her eyes were skeptical. "Do you really think all those women I barely know would come if I planned it?"

Cole laughed. "Darby, you clearly don't understand them at all. The fact that you barely know them is **exactly** what will get them all to come."

"Huh?" She was clearly confused.

"Babe, they all need to drill you with questions. Make sure you're suitable for a member of their hockey playing clan."

She signed before wrapping both arms around his neck. "You make is sound so appealing."

He kissed her once, a quick peck on the lips. "I think you should do it."

With a huge sigh, Darby shook back a piece of jet black hair that had fallen in front of her eyes and looked up to the ceiling. "You do."

Cole flashed a mischievous grin and let his eyes wander from Darby's waist, up to her eyes, and then back down to settle on her lips. Feeling him looking at her like that had the blood humming in her veins. Leaning a little closer, he licked his lips slowly, all the while watching her. "I'm willing to bet I can persuade you."

Darby sucked in a long breath, her bottom lip full and trapped between her teeth. "Prove it." Before she knew it, Cole had picked her up and was halfway down the hall towards his bedroom.

* * *

Charlie had been home from California for three days before Beau started hounding him about talking to Devin. By the time day five rolled around, she was tactfully reminding him of his assignment roughly ten times a day. By day seven, he could take it no more. 

"Okay, I'll do it right now! Leave me be, woman!" Charlie had spun around to face Beau where she was shadowing him as he tried, desperately, to evade her under the pretense of mowing the front lawn. He didn't know why he had thought that would work. They had been paying a service to cut the lawn for the past year.

Stopping just short of running into him, Beau smiled placidly and shoved her hands in her pockets. "Great." She jerked her head towards the backyard. "He's in the pool."

Charlie looked over his shoulder through the big glass French doors and saw that Devin was, in fact, in the pool. _Was the woman ever wrong?_

With a sigh worthy of a bad Lifetime TV movie or a cheesy soap opera, Charlie heaved open the back door dramatically, turned to salute Beau, and then stepped into the steamy summer heat.

He walked slower than was necessary, but he was trying to figure out what to say. Seven days advanced notice and he had thought of not one decent opening sentence. He had briefly thought about singing the classic Salt-N-Pepa "Let's Talk About Sex," but he didn't want to send the kid running away screaming. So, back to square one.

Before he knew it, Charlie was all the way to the edge of the pool. He watched Devin for a long moment. He was swimming laps in lazy strokes. He was a little taken back to see how much of a man the kid had grown into. Seeing the muscles flexing as Devin swam, Charlie was able, for just a second, to imagine what a sixteen year old girl would think of this picture. _Maybe it __**is**__ time for the big talk. Shit._

Slipping out of his Reefs, Charlie stepped down two steps into the pool and then sat on the side, waiting for Devin to finish his regimen. After five more laps, all with fluid underwater turns, the boy surfaced, yanking off goggles and shaking his longish hair out of his face. He looked towards the steps and smiled. "What's up, Charlie?"

_Start causal. Yeah._ "Nothin' much. Just seeing what you were up to."

Walking slowly through the shallow end of the long pool, Devin slicked his hair back and checked his watch. He sprawled out on the stairs next to his dad. "Nothing much really. I was going to hang out here for dinner and then Annemarie and I were going to go see a movie later."

Charlie nodded. _Doing good, Conway._ "What movie?"

"Disturbia." There was that wicked grin that Devin had picked up living under the same roof as Charlie. "I love taking her to thrillers. She holds my hand in a vice grip and then hides her eyes on my shoulder. It really is true what they say about girls and scary movies." He laughed and Charlie tried to mimic the sound, but what came out was more like a pre-puberty girl or a mouse being stepped on. He sounded a little hysterical. He was hyper-aware of Devin looking at him curiously.

_He gave you the perfect transition. Get it together!_

"Listen, Dev." He looked back over his shoulder at the house, sure that Beau was peering out the window. With the glare, though, he couldn't see. He turned back. "Beau told me that while I was gone she accidentally, um, well you know. Uh, she popped into your room…" _Popped into your room? What are you, and old British lady?_ "I mean, she happened to interrupt you and Annemarie, well…you know…"

Devin smiled and closed one eye against the sun. "You mean when she caught us making out?"

Charlie huffed out a sigh of relief. "Yeah. That."

Devin shrugged. "It was embarrassing I guess." He sat up, looking concerned. "Was Beau upset? She didn't say anything. I mean, it's not like we were sneaking around. The door was open and we…" Charlie stopped him by holding up a hand.

"No, she wasn't mad." He tried to look up and smile, but he was feeling a little woozy. "Shocked, for sure. But she was teenager herself once too." _C'mon, Conway. Say what you're supposed to say and then get the hell out!_ "So was I for that matter."

Devin laughed again. "Aren't you **still** like a teenager, Charlie?"

_Smartass._ "Ha ha. Fair enough." He shook his head. "It's hard being a guy. I know that first hand. When I was your age I was kissing any girl that would get within distance." He rambled on quickly, not sure where he was going with this. But Charlie's mouth wasn't listening to his brain. "In fact, there was this one girl. Linda. And she…" Luckily Devin had the wherewithal to cut the story short.

"Charlie?" He scrunched up his whole face, shading his eyes with one hand. "Are you giving me a sex talk?"

_Abort! Abort!_

"Uh. No?" He said it like a question, knowing that he looked completely idiotic to Devin. He tried again. "I mean, yes." He deepened his voice, clearing his throat. "**Yes I am**." He said it a little too forcefully and Devin had to stifle a laugh.

"You're not doing so well."

Woefully, Charlie dropped his head, scooped up a handful of water, and dropped it on his forehead. "I know."

There was a long silence where Devin said nothing and Charlie watched him carefully. Finally, not looking over, Devin tried to sound casual. "Annemarie and I aren't…I mean, we're not having…we haven't done that." He spat out the last few words rather quickly.

Hearing how uncomfortable he'd made Devin, Charlie looked closely and then felt incredibly stupid. _He's a kid. Just a kid. And he's your son. He looks up to you and he needs you._ Realizing that – seeing himself as a father of a teenage boy – Charlie settled at ease. He took a guess.

"But you're thinking about it."

Still looking across the yard and not at Charlie, Devin nodded. "Well, **I** am anyway. I mean, we haven't talked about it really."

Charlie chuckled. "Of course **you're** thinking about it. You're a guy." It was uneven ground where they were going and Charlie didn't want to say the wrong thing or give the wrong advice. He had never gotten the sex talk from his parents, or much of any talk for that matter, and he had been ill prepared for his first time.

"Look, Devin." He watched the boy, and finally he turned his blue eyes to make visual contact. "I'm not going to tell you that I waited to have sex until I met Beau and I'm not naive enough to think that you're going to wait until marriage." He waited for confirmation. Devin turned red.

"I was kind of hoping not to."

Charlie laughed. "So, here's the deal." He said the next bit firmly, his head even with Devin's. "You be safe…**always**." Here, like the seventeen-year-old that he was, Devin turned even brighter red from the waist of his swim trunks to the top of his head. He accompanied his vibrant color with a heavily dramatic eye roll.

"God, Charlie. I know that!"

Charlie nodded. "I know you do. But as a parent, I have to say it. You don't want a baby before you're ready. And if you do," he gestured towards the house. "You can have one of your siblings."

This got a laugh and he saw Devin relax. "Know the person you're with and who they've been with…always." Devin started to protest again, but Charlie shook his head. "I know. You know. That's why I covered those things first."

He wasn't sure just how to say this next part, and he figured, in his intrinsically Charlie way, that honesty was the best policy, regardless of if Devin would cry 'too much information.'

"The most important thing though, buddy, is to be absolutely sure." This got Devin's attention, and he realized that the boy was very truly considering being with Annemarie. _Good Lord._ "I rushed into the first time, and I regretted it later." He thought about Beau, and their first time on her birthday all those years ago. "You should only be with someone who makes you happy. And someone who makes you laugh. And someone that you can fight with and know it will be okay." He put a hand on Devin's shoulder. "Because sex complicates everything, kid. You should only have it with someone you're willing to complicate your life for."

He stopped, pretty sure he had covered everything. Now it was Charlie's turn to scrunch up his face. He looked at Devin expectantly. "So? How'd I do?"

Devin grinned at him. "Well, other than giving me entirely too much information, and forcing me to admit that you and Beau have…you know…"

Charlie interrupted. "We had twins a year and a half ago, Devin. How did you think that happened?"

Covering his eyes, Devin shook his head. "Stop it! It was magic!" He laughed though, and looked up at Charlie, wistfully thinking of his biological father, but knowing that he had the absolute next best thing right there. "You did good." He put out his fist. "Thanks."

Charlie bumped his fisted hand against Devin's and then grabbed his arm, helping him up. "C'mon. Let's go in. I've got ten dollars that says Beau is hovering right inside that back door just waiting to add five things to what I've already said."

Devin knew it was a fool's bet, but couldn't resist. "I'll take that."

They padded across the patio and just as they opened the door, they saw Beau quickly lean back in her chair at the kitchen table and flip a page in her _Rolling Stone_. She looked up at them, trying to feign casualness, but failing miserably. One look at her two boys and she knew that **they** knew that she had been watching. She smiled sweetly and then looked at Devin. He was her baby boy, all grown up. Not that he had ever been her baby boy. But still, he was a man now. She saw the way he looked at his girlfriend. The thought that he was growing up so fast, and that he would soon be leaving them for college, had tears starting to swim in her eyes. She couldn't help herself.

"Devin, I just want you to know that no matter what…" she sniffed. "You can always talk to Charlie and me. We're here for you and we will never judge." She swallowed and looked at them both. Charlie was grinning like an idiot and Devin was avoiding all eye contact with everyone in the room. Charlie was the first to speak, laughter in his eyes.

"We won't judge. That's true. We love ya, kid." Then he turned to Devin who was back to being bright red.

He started to walk away, shaking his head. "I know you guys love me and that I can talk to you. But I think I've had enough of discussing my sex life with you two today." He was bolting towards the stairs when he heard Beau's slightly panic-stricken voice.

"He has a sex life?"

**

* * *

Johnny: **Thanks for always being the first to review! 

**Hockey-girl90**: Well, here's the answer to how the talk turned out. What do you think? As you expected??

**Secret Places**: I am taking your Adam suggestion under advisement. I'll resolve it in the next chapter for sure. Thanks for the input. Love it!

**Just a Fan**: A little Cole and Darby, at your request. I don't think Girls Weekend will be more than a blurb, but thought it would be a cute idea.

I haven't seen Sweet Charity yet, but am going to see the tour this summer with Molly Ringwald. Can't wait. I'm such a 16 Candles fan!


	33. To No Men

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

**Author Note: Special thanks to Pitaqueen and joshysgirl for all their great ideas and quotes! You guys keep it up!**

_

* * *

She's amazing._ Devin was sitting in the back of the local theatre, waiting for Annemarie to finish rehearsals so that he could take her out to dinner. She had sung him a few of the songs at the house, and he had run lines with her, so he had always known that she would do a good job with the part. But sitting in the large venue, watching her totally own the stage, it was amazing to see how she had come to life. She wasn't Annemarie anymore. She was Gabriella. 

And right now, Gabriella was kissing Troy. Or more accurately, Annemarie was kissing Blake Ogren.

Devin wasn't quite prepared for the stab of jealousy that he felt somewhere between his gut and his heart, but felt it he did. He trusted Annemarie endlessly. He only had to see how she looked at him to know how she felt. But, he was no fool. He knew that she was the prettiest girl in school. She was also one of the most popular. He didn't know a guy who didn't want her. Somehow he had won out.

The director of the show called for an end to the day and Annemarie trotted over to stage left to grab her purse. As she paused to pull her hair up into a sleek pony-tail, Blake jogged over and said something which had her doubling over in laugher. Devin narrowed his eyes, again registering that pang of concern.

She waved goodbye to her castmates with a smile and then walked up the long isle to whear Devin was waiting. He stood up and moved to meet her, and when she saw him, her grin grew. It did his heart good to see that. When they met near the back door, he picked her up in a tight embrace, kissed her neck, and smiled back. "You are unreal, girl." He set her back down and ran a hand over her shoulder. "Seriously. That song was fantastic."

Cocking her hip out she mocked self-assurance. "I know. We're fabulous." When he laughed at her she grabbed his hand and they started out towards his car. "Thank you though. But, I'm glad you didn't see it before today." She grimaced. "Blake and I just finally got the harmony right. It sounded weird before."

Devin's hand tensed a little in hers and he felt like a jerk, but couldn't quite stop the tone in his voice. "Blake, huh?"

Annemarie heard it, and stopped, turning to face him. She searched his face for a long moment before smiling. "You're jealous."

Devin rolled his eyes, totally ready to play it off, but he knew that she would know the truth. She always did with him. "Maybe."

She laughed, mocking him. "Maybe." She poked him in the chest. "What? Are you monosyllabic hockey guy now?" When he just sulked in front of her she stepped closer, wrapper her arms around his waist, and looked up at him. "Devin. It's a play. I love **you**, remember?"

Hearing her say those words again had him feeling foolish. Finally returning the gesture, he put his arms around her and dropped his chin to the top of her head. "I know. It's **him** that I'm worried about." Pulling away, he grabbed her hand and started again towards the parking lot, his voice conversational. "I mean, you're hot!"

Annemarie laughed, squeezing his hand. "I'm the hot one? Have you looked in the mirror recently?" She dug a finger into his side before wrapping her arm around his waist. "You'll be at the opening show, right?"

Devin kept in stride, bending down to kiss the top of her head as they walked across the parking lot. "Silly question. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

"Darby," Beau leaned back in her lounge chair, closing her eyes against the sun, and sighed. "This was the best idea." 

In a chair farther down the way, Connie rubbed in more sunscreen before pushing her sunglasses back up her nose. "Amen. It's always go team, go and boys, boys, boys. It's about time we all took a few days for ourselves!" With a definitive nod of her head, she laid back.

They six of them - Connie, Julie, Darby, Kimball, Beau, and Rachel – had been in Las Vegas for a measly 2 hours, but already they had made the most of it. They had checked into the Paris, dumped their bags, and immediately changed into swimsuits and sprawled themselves out across one whole side of the rooftop pool. As the oppressive summer sun was beating down on them and fading quickly into oblivion, Beau had time to ponder what a strange group it was.

She had been exceedingly surprised when Darby had called her, via Cole, and then followed up with an evite the next day. She had been even more surprised when Darby had suggested inviting Connie and Julie. Beau considered Connie a friend, albeit a distant one, and she barely even knew Julie. When that had both responded that they would attend No Boys Allowed Weekend, she had been downright shocked. They weren't really 'gossip with the girls' types.

Truth be told, Beau had never been that either. She had always been more comfortable around the boys, with the exception of Rachel, and later in life, Kimball. She loved Connie because Guy loved Connie. Darby, though still a bit of a mystery, clearly had Cole head over heels, which Beau respected immensely. She also earned points for sticking her neck out in an effort to include herself. The girl was gutsy, and that Beau admired. Beyond that, she liked her. She was easy going and friendly. But it was strange to think of her with Cole when she knew so little about her. Beau had a mission for the weekend.

Out of her peripheral vision, Beau eyed Darby. She seemed to be tuned in on Connie, and she realized with a start that she was far enough away that Darby likely couldn't tell what was being said.

With her sunglasses, and the girls stretched out in a line of six chairs, Darby **was** finding it a bit difficult to relax and try to read everyone's lips at the same time. She had caught part of what Connie had said, but still wasn't sure she had gotten it all. She sighed, trying to enjoy the need to do nothing at all.

Just as she was settling back, closing her eyes, and preparing to escape from the world for a bit, there was a slight tap on her shoulder. She turned her head to find Beau sitting up, smiling at her tentatively. She slid her sunglasses up into her hair.

"What's up?" That one was easy. She could speak it so that it was fairly understandable. If she wanted to have any real conversations later, she'd have to call up her translator, who was currently asleep in his hotel room.

There was a long pause in which Beau looked at her, a slightly pained expression on her face. Finally, she raised her hands and with small tentative gestures, signed. "Connie said she was glad the boys weren't' around."

Darby stared at the woman's hands, which she had now shot down into her lap. She lifted hers and signed very slowly, watching Beau watch her. "You know how to sign?"

Beau smiled. "I'm learning."

Darby was confused. "Why?"

Now Beau smiled easily and shrugged. "So I can talk to you."

"Me?" Darby realized she had suddenly lost 99.9 of her vocabulary, but she was literally dumbfounded. Beau signed very slowly, but it was competent and completely understandable.

"You love Cole." She smiled. "**I** love Cole." She reached out and touched Darby's knee very briefly. "We should be able to talk to each other."

Then, simple as that, Beau leaned back in her chair, adjusted the top of her red and white polka-dotted bikini, and closed her eyes.

* * *

"I am freaking out over here, man." Adam was pacing the living room he was back to sharing with Kimball, his phone pressed too firmly to his ear, constantly eyeing the time on his watch. 

Charlie tried to be patient. This was the third time they had circled back around to the start of this phone conversation. Considering he was currently perching Riley on his hip and was watching Chase as he tottered around the playroom, he wasn't feeling too accommodating. He gritted his teeth.

"Banks, please calm the f-" he was going to say 'calm the fuck down,' but then remembered his children who were very much in earshot. "Please calm down," he amended. _Charlie Conway, super dad._

Setting Riley on the floor by her brother, he watched in amusement as they began working together to build a block tower. "If their straight answer was going to be no, they wouldn't have called you in for a meeting. They would have told your agent to tell you to go screw yourself." He winced. 'Go screw yourself' was probably not on the list of child-friendly phrases. _Charlie Conway, huge freaking screw-up. Oh well._

Adam was muttering to himself on the other end of the phone. "Do you really think so? I felt like such an ass calling them back up after two weeks and basically saying 'Hi, this is Banks. I'm an idiot. Can I have my spot back?'"

Charlie was pretty sure that Banks **had** sounded like an idiot, but that wasn't a very 'awesome friend' kind of thing to say. So, instead he went with, "Nah. It'll be fine." He smiled, channeling Guy. "Remember? You're Adam freaking Banks."

Adam took a long drink of water before slamming his hand down on the countertop. "Right! I'm Adam freaking Banks." Grabbing up his car keys he stepped towards the door. "Whatever the hell that means." He took a big breath, making a mental note to tell Beau that Charlie was laughing at him. That would fix him. "Alright, I'm gonna go talk to them."

Charlie said a quick prayer for Adam. "Go get 'em, Banksie."

* * *

Adam was trying his hardest to look like he was comfortable and like he wasn't terrified that his whole professional life was going to fall apart. Hockey was everything to him. He took a second to marvel at how messed up he had been to try and throw it away. Forcing himself to stop fidgeting, he leaned back and crossed one ankle over his knee. "I appreciate you guys meeting with me." He looked around at the Anaheim coach, owner, and an assorted group of other big wigs. He nodded at his own agent. "With us, that is." 

The coach, who Adam had always had a great relationship with, smiled at him reassuringly. "Of course, Adam."

The owner was gruff, as was his nature, when he leaned forward and steepled his hands. "Mr. Banks, we told you directly after your…" He searched for a word. "Incident…that we would do whatever was needed in the way of standing behind our star player." He narrowed his eyes. "I never in a million years would have thought that what you needed would have included throwing away one of the most lucrative compensation packets in professional hockey history."

Adam tried not to look abashed. These were men who respected self-assurance. "I totally understand your shock, sir." He pursed his lips, trying to hide his shaking hands by running them through his hair. "I didn't exactly expect to have such a total shut-down myself. Things were…" He sat up and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "They were much harder to deal with than expected. When I was at my worst I couldn't see past the moment I was in. When I couldn't make a decision about signing my contract I just…didn't."

The words felt so horribly inadequate and Adam could tell by the pained look on his agent's face that they **were** horribly inadequate. The team owner looked at him for what felt like forever, his piercing eyes leaving Adam's skin burning. Finally, he spoke as he leaned back and scratched at his chin.

"What's to say that some other life altering occurrence won't put you in the same position again? How do we know you're dedicated?"

Before Adam could open his mouth, his coach stepped around the desk to stand at an angle to both him and the owner. "I am more than willing to put my name up for Banks sir. He is one of the most dedicated professionals I've had the pleasure of knowing. He was born to play hockey." He looked to Adam for confirmation. When he got a nod he smiled. "It's in his blood."

Adam stood now and moved close to the desk. He leaned down and looked the man straight in the eyes. "It's in my blood." He smacked his palms on the polished wood once. "I need to play and the Ducks is where I want to be."

The silence seemed endless, the owner staring Adam down and Banks not flinching a bit. The only sound in the room was Adam's deep breaths. Finally, the old man's face crinkled, ever so slightly, right around the eyes. What might be considered a smile crossed his lips when he stuck out his hand. "Welcome back, son."

* * *

"To women!" Connie, a little more than buzzed, raised her martini in the air, sloshing a bit over the rim and onto her hand. The other girls did the same, with varying degrees of spilled liquid. 

Rachel thought about how Fulton always thought he was helping by telling her when she was starting to slur her words. Luckily he wasn't around to point it out tonight. She beamed at Beau who was standing across from her, and thought back to the first high school party they had ever gone to together. "To **no** men!"

"To no men!" they all repeated in unison.

After two tequila shots and a lemon drop, Beau had her arm slung around Darby's shoulders. "I really like you, Darby." The matter of fact tone had the slightly less inebriated Darby laughing. She leaned back her head to see Beau's face.

"You do?"

Beau took a step back and gestured up and down. "What's not to like? You're smart, you're funny, you're super laid back."

Rachel had stepped over and Beau slid her arm around her waist, pulling her closer conspiratorially. "I'm not sure I wanted to like her." She looked over at Darby and grinned. "But damn it if you aren't really cool."

Darby raised her pina colada to herself and took a big sip before leaning in so that Beau could hear her over the music. "You didn't want to like me?"

Beau waved her off. "I'm a bit protective of Cole."

Rachel scoffed, nearly snorting vodka out of her nose. "A **bit**?!? Ha!"

Beau glared at her. "I just care very much that he's happy." Her voice had turned watery and she smiled again at Darby. "You make him very happy."

Darby couldn't help it, and in a moment of girly weakness, reached out and pulled Beau into a quick hug. Beau squeezed back. Darby stepped away and grinned. "You and Cole have a strange relationship, huh?"

Before Beau could answer, Connie jumped in. "**All** of the boys have a strange relationship with Beau." Beau had a moment to look indignant while she wondered if this was being discussed as a good or bad thing. Connie immediately held up a hand. "That came out totally wrong. They are great relationships. Guy wouldn't be the man I married if you weren't his best-friend."

Kimball nodded. "I noticed it when we were all at your house way back last year." She shook her head. "It's like you're one of the guys."

Julie piped in. "In a way that Connie and I never were." She hooked an arm around her best-friend's waist. "Probably because we always had each other. Another girl on the team." She angled her head towards Beau. "You were stuck all alone with them and then **lived** with them."

Rachel mouthed vomiting. "Which I will never understand how you did."

Beau pulled a face. "You live with **Fulton**, the biggest slob of them all."

"And I want to kill him on a daily basis."

"Speaking of killing…" Rachel's eyes had a definite twinkle. "Did Charlie die of embarrassment after giving Devin **the talk**?" She said the last words ominously, prompting Julie to imitate scary music.

Beau shook her head with her eyes closed. "You would have thought so, considering it took him nearly a week to work up the courage. It seems like it went okay. He told me that Devin was really responsive and that he felt like he had covered all the 'important information.'" She made quotation marks with her fingers.

Connie groaned. "And you, of course, made him repeat all of the 'important information' so that you could make sure he hadn't made a mess of things." She opened her eyes wide. "Beau, you did check up on him, right? I mean, this is Spazway, we're talking about here."

Beau shook her head. "Yeah, I think I drove him nuts, but he says he told him to always know who he was with, always be safe, and only be with someone who makes you happy." They all thought about it, Connie with a romantic sigh. Finally breaking the moment, Julie spoke up, here voice dry.

"Who knew?" She looked dumbfounded. "Charlie Conway. Our own little after school special."

"They're all something else, aren't they?" Darby grinned. "What do you think they're doing while left to their own devices for a weekend?"

Connie didn't hesitate. "I don't even want to think about it." She shook her head back and forth, her shoulder length sleek dark hair reflecting the colored lights of the club. "It's a terrifying idea."

They all toasted again to the thought of it.

* * *

What they were doing was, in fact, exactly what the girls might have expected. 

Reveling in his summer break, Guy had taken Attila out to the dog park every day and met up with Averman and Goldberg twice for dinner. Jesse had even made it out once, despite his busy work schedule.

With his newfound job back in order, Adam was practicing until he dropped. Cardio skates in the morning, weight training in the afternoon, drills at night. It was the Adam they all knew.

Fulton was…well Fulton really **was** a slob. When Rachel had called to check in earlier that day, he had been sprawled out on their huge couch, a bowl of popcorn on his stomach, his hair in his eyes, and his cotton track pants slung low on his hips. He had been watching a Saturday marathon of old _Firefly_ episodes and was completely content in doing nothing.

Cole had spent the better part of an afternoon lying by his apartment complex pool and wishing that Darby was around. He was a little embarrassed with himself that he couldn't get through three days without missing her enormously. It was not something he had mentioned when he had talked to Charlie earlier.

And Charlie…well Charlie was totally wiped out.

Devin strolled into the house at 9pm to find Charlie on the living room couch, flat on his back, sound asleep. Between his spread legs Chase was on his side, wrapped around his dad's leg, snoring his tiny little boy snore. Riley was flat on her stomach, her little cheek pressed against Charlie's chest, black curls falling over a slightly flushed face.

Charlie had one arm slung around his daughter and the other dangled to the floor. His mouth was slightly open, his snores matching Chase's.

Watching them for a moment, surrounded by the mess of two toddlers, a Disney movie still playing on the television, Devin was momentarily overcome with a rush of love for his family. This was what people wanted in life. A relationship like Beau and Charlie. Parents like them. A cohesive unit.

Before he could get all sentimental, Devin shook his head. He walked over and slid his hands very gently under Riley's fast growing body and lifted her up until her head plopped softly onto his shoulder. Her calm breaths never missed a beat and he grinned at himself, proud at how good he had gotten with handling his sister.

With a foot he nudged Charlie's hand where is lay on the floor. "Charlie."

The only response he got was a soft grunt. He nudged again, this time hard enough have Charlie's hand pressed into the carpet. "Charlie."

"Huh?" With a small start Charlie opened his eyes and stared up at Devin. It took him a moment and some furious blinking, but then he was awake. "Hey, Dev." He yawned. "What time is it?"

Devin couldn't help but laugh. "Nine." He shook his head. "Loser."

Charlie tried to look offended, but was too tired to manage. "They figured out this week that if they run in opposite directions, you can only catch one of them." He sighed. "The next sixteen or so years are going to be exhausting." He pointed at Riley. "You going to take her up to bed?"

"I was going to. Do you want me to come back down and get Chase?"

"No." He sat up at the waist, careful not to move the leg that tiny arms were wrapped around. "I'll untangle him and bring him up too." He looked over at the TV. "Then how about a game of Guitar Hero?"

Devin grinned. "You want to get dominated again, huh?"

Charlie looked away, busying himself with Chase. "In your dreams, kid."

**

* * *

Joshysgirl:** You caught me! That's probably one of my bigger mistakes since the early chapters of EE. Thanks! I decided not to go back and fix it because I'm uber-lazy. Thank you though. 

Oh! And consider yourself quoted…AGAIN! Keep 'em coming!

**Just a fan**: Glad you're enjoying. Hopefully Girls Weekend lived up to expectations. The girls, barring Beau, are so much harder for me to write. I suck!

Enjoy the happiness while you can. Mwa ha ha.

**Hockey-girl90**: And with this long chapter, the Adam thing is completely back to normal, as requested!

**SleepyGoof07**: For the longer wait, and extra long chapter!

**Johnny**: Glad you enjoyed. I always think of Beau being that wife that nags, but who's adorable when she does it. Hope it come across like that. Besides, I'm pretty sure Spazway would need a good woman who knows how to nag.

**Pitaqueen **– See the author note at the top. You rock!!


	34. Broken Window

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"I missed you." 

"Mmm." Darby found herself a little surprised and completely seduced when she opened the door to Cole and was immediately pushed back against her foyer wall, his hands possessively running down her sides to squeeze her hips as his tongue slid demandingly between her lips. Darby had never been wanted in such a way. Losing herself for a moment, she let her hands move up to tangle in Cole's thick curls. She took as much as she gave and when she didn't have an ounce of breath left in her lungs she took a step forward, forcing him to break contact.

Cole leaned back a fraction of an inch and looked at her in a way that could only be described as predatorily. Darby took a long breath, letting it out slowly and trying to remember where she was. Finally she signed.

"What was **that** all about?"

Cole ran his tongue over his bottom lip, still looking at her like he might pull her to the floor any minute. "I missed you." If she had been able to hear his voice she would have heard that it was husky with emotion and desire.

His gaze heating her skin to boiling, Darby sucked in another breath, swallowing audibly. "I was only gone for three days."

Taking another step forward, Cole slid a finger under the bottom of her ash grey t-shirt, letting his bitten nail trail tantalizingly over her skin. "I missed you ten minutes after you left for the airport." Turning his hand over he grabbed the bottom of the shirt and began to work it up Darby's torso. With his other hand he traced a small circle around her belly button, watching as goose bumps popped up on her skin.

Cole looked up at her bright blue eyes. They were as wide as he had ever seen them and turning darker by the minute as he pulled her shirt higher and higher and eventually up and over her head.

Watching her the whole time, he ran his hands up and down her bare arms while bending forward to kiss her slender exposed neck. A low guttural sound registered in her throat and he heard the longing. It was enough to send Cole's control running out of reach. Diving a hand in her hair he drug her mouth to his and kissed her fiercely. Pulling back he nipped her lip and made sure she was looking at his mouth. "I love you, Darby."

She twined her arms around his neck and hopped up to vice her legs around his waist. They barely made it to the stairs.

* * *

"You look exhausted, babe." Fulton was sitting at one end of the couch, Rachel's feet propped in his lap as she snuggled deeper into the cushions and yawned, verifying his assessment. 

She smiled sleepily and wiggled her feet, hoping it might entice her husband to start rubbing. "I **am** exhausted." She laughed a little. "I forgot what a force of nature Beau is. She totally wore me out."

Fulton barked out a laugh and began squeezing her tiny feet with his calloused hand, smiling when she groaned with pleasure. "Force of nature. That is the best way to describe Mayland that I've ever heard." He dropped his head back on the couch, grinning. "She scared the bejeezus out of me the first few weeks she was on the team."

Rachel sat up a little, running her hands through her mousy brown hair that was thick and falling past her shoulders in a mass of waves. "I believe it." Shaking her head she tucked her feet under her and snuggled up against Fulton's muscular side. She ran a hand over his chest and marveled at the fact that he had not been playing professional hockey for over two years and yet still kept his body in fantastic shape. She looked up at his face a brushed a stray black hair away from his eyes. "Nervous about tomorrow?"

He shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer against him as he muted the television. "Not really nervous. More overwhelmed, I think." He closed his eyes, willing his brain to quit running a mile a minute. For Fulton Reed things that had come against him had been dealt with and then quickly pushed aside. He wasn't used to worrying about things. He was a 'go with the flow' kind of guy. He got on the ice, he did his job, then he went home.

But the past year of hunting down investors and the recent months of constantly thinking about logistics and details and finances had been totally new – a little bit exciting and a whole lot stressful.

Leaving the Bruins had been a hard decision. Not signing with another team at the end of the season had been near torture. Fulton Reed knew hockey. But Fulton Reed also knew that hockey had become something he dreaded while playing in Boston. The team discontent had filtered into the pure high he got while playing and had ultimately made him want to stop.

For three months he had sat around on his ass, completely depressed and totally unsure what he was going to do with his life. He had a degree in communication but had no real idea what that meant.

Rachel, for her part, had been his rock. She never once asked him when he was going to go out and get a job. She never once pressured him about money (not that they were lacking or that her job couldn't pay the bills). And she never gave him grief about his shitty attitude. Well, almost never. There was that **one** time, near the end of the three months, where she had poked a finger hard into his chest and declared that his time for pansy-ass whining was over. It was time, she informed him, to get on with his life.

And so he had. Fulton knew hockey and knew that he would always need it to have a place in his life. He knew **that** just as sure as he knew that he had no real desire to ever play professionally again. He also knew that, like Guy, he felt compelled to do something that would last. He wanted to leave his mark.

For a solid month he had put ideas down on paper and then immediately balled them up and thrown them in the trash. It had been during a moment of boredom that he had found himself, much to his own surprise, looking at some pictures that Rachel had put in frames over their fireplace. The one that he couldn't stop looking at was one that Beau had copied and given to him a few years ago. It was the original Ducks, complete with holy, tattered jerseys, sweats, and hand-me-down equipment. They were all grinning like idiots around Coach Bombay's limo.

It had taken him back to a time that he viewed in two very separate ways. It had been the start of his life as a hockey player. As hockey, and the Ducks, were something that Fulton considered the biggest part of him, second only to his love for Rachel, that first year playing and being part of a team was paramount to the man that he had become.

But at the same time, the picture brought back darker memories. It reminded him of a time when he didn't always have food on the table. And when no one cared if he came home at night. And when no one came to his games.

Fulton Reed had not had a good childhood. He had never had family – at least none that cared – until the Ducks came along and Charlie had forced their way, kicking and screaming, into Fulton's life.

It was that memory, the realization of what that team had meant to him, that gave Fulton his idea.

Broken Window Hockey was a three month old non-profit organization with Fulton Reed serving as the Executive Director. His Board of Directors was made up of Adam Banks, Charlie Conway, Beau Conway, Gordon Bombay, and several Boston area business men and women, not to mention the town's City Manager.

The goal of the program was to give at-risk middle school children the opportunity to learn and play a sport that built confidence, teamwork, and promoted physical activity. Above all else, Broken Window Hockey aimed to keep kids off of the street.

In its first year, kids would be referred by local Boys and Girls clubs and church organizations. There were to be four teams, all of which had all equipment provided free of charge – thanks to a bevy of investors which included all of the Board members and over 100 Boston businesses. Fulton had visited every one of those businesses himself, asking for money in any amount

All that city youths needed to do to participate would be to make a commitment. They needed to promise to be at practice – taking advantage of the shuttle service that Fulton had arranged if need be. They needed to promise to work on their own time. They needed to keep their grades up. And above all else, they needed to promise to stay off of the streets.

Fulton knew better than most that making those promises was easy, but keeping them was an entirely different story. He intended to help as many of the 52 participants as he possibly could. He would work hand in hand with his coaches to make sure that he knew every name and every situation.

Fulton was determined that his program would succeed – not just because he and his friends had invested money in it – but because he needed to make a difference.

Broken Window Hockey's inaugural season officially began the next day and he was so excited he could hardly wait. Excited and terrified beyond all reason. Fulton was pretty sure he wasn't going to sleep a wink.

* * *

Charlie, Beau, and Devin were stretched out on the living room couch trying their best to watch the copy of _The Departed _that they had rented. They were having a nice family night in. It was nearing the end of the summer and Devin was going back to school in three days and had been him who had suggested just watching a movie and making pop-corn. 

Beau was all over the idea since she had been away the previous weekend, Devin had been at hockey camp before that, and Charlie always had such a busy schedule. With the twins down to sleep, it had been peaceful until Murphy got into the back yard and started making a ruckus.

He had never been a barker, but he had always been very protective of the Conway family. For the past several weeks he had been prowling the back fence incessantly, barking at the littlest noise. Since the woods behind their house was awash with birds, squirrels, and every other manner of small animal, he pretty much barked all the time.

This night was no exception. Ten minutes after whining to be let out he started up at the top of his dog lungs. Beau sighed, looking at the clock. It was almost 9:30.

"The neighbors are going to rally to have us kicked out of the neighborhood if he keeps that up."

Charlie drug himself from his reclined position and got up, heading towards the back door. "Or sign a petition urging us to have the damn beast gassed." He opened the sliding door. "Murph! Shut up and get in here."

With a final growl, the huge dog came lumbering towards them, through the door, and promptly jumped up into the seat that his master had just vacated. Turning, Charlie glared at him. "Out of the road, mutt. That's my seat."

In answer Murphy plopped his head on the armrest, sighed, and then began snoring loudly. Charlie glared for a long minute. Finally he shrugged and looked at Devin.

"On the floor, kid."

Devin threw his head back, laughing. His blue eyes were sparking and he raked a hand through his wild curls. Charlie just glared at him.

"What's so funny?"

Devin kept laughing, glancing at Beau whose eyes were shining. "Big bad hockey star Charlie Conway can't move a dog so he's ordering his kid onto the floor? Pretty lame, if you ask me." As if making a final statement, Devin grinned up at Charlie and flipped the lever on the side of his chair, reclining and crossing his feet at the ankles.

Beau snorted, trying to hold in her laugh while Charlie ran his tongue over his teeth. "You're pretty self-assured for a teenager whose butt I could kick if I really felt like exerting the energy, you know that?"

Now Beau finally let out a laugh. "Charlie, honey. You exert as little energy as possible when you aren't playing. It's sort of your life motto." She rolled her eyes. "Don't make threats you don't intend to carry out."

"Shut it, woman." He tried to sound angry, but he never really could with Beau. As a result she just rolled her eyes at Devin.

"Charlie Conway - friend to women, teenagers, and very large dogs."

With a huff, Charlie lowered himself to the floor in front of Beau's legs, hoping she'd feel sorry for him and run her fingers through his hair for a while. As he hit the play button for the DVD he muttered under his breath.

"I could kick his butt if I really wanted to. Him **and** his little dog."

**

* * *

Johnny:** Glad you enjoyed! 

**Hockey-girl90**: Sorry it took me so long to update. Been a crazy week with all of my "assigned" writing for other sites and such and my favorites here had to take a back seat. So? Vacationed yet??

**SleepyGoof07**: I'm so glad you enjoyed that last bit. I really see Charlie and Devin as the sensitive jock types who only let you see glimpses of it when they aren't being class clowns, you know? Keep reviewing. You're the best!

**Joshysgirl**: How much do I love **YOU**? Let me count the ways! Hahah Thanks again for the constant inspiration for amazing lines!!!

**Sinbin05**: Let me say thank you again for being such a long time reviewer!! Happy belated birthday! I seem to have a habit of updating on or around people's big days, so I'm glad that I did for you. Sorry that there has been such a delay for his chapter. Hopefully I'll pick back up again here soon soon soon. Thanks again!

**Just a fan**: I'm sorry to tell you…better prepare yourself for more sadness. Can't tell you who or why, but it'll be big. And probably the last big story line of this fanfic. Get ready!


	35. Ten Bucks

Disclaimer - I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

Devin felt beyond cool as he pulled into the senior parking lot on the first day of his last year of high school. He and Charlie had waxed the Mustang the previous day and with the morning still summer-warm he had the top down as he cruised passed the parked cars and slid into a spot near the tennis courts. 

"You are **so** the fuckin' pimp in that thing, Dev." As he turned the radio off he grinned over at Kennedy Smith and Brady Kent. Completely aware of the two sophomore girls strolling by, he hopped out over the door and leaned against the side of his ride, arms crossed over his chest.

He pointed at the Range Rover that Kennedy was sitting on. "And you're not in that?"

His friend looked his new car up and down before nodding. "Fair enough." Kennedy watched as a few more girls walked by, obviously checking them out, and then nodded seriously. "Gentlemen…this is our year."

Brady rolled his eyes, used to Kennedy's bravado. "Our year?"

The hockey team captain hopped down from the hood of his car, drawing himself to his full six feet. He ran a hand dramatically over his short blond faux-hawk and grinned, ticking off reasons on his fingers. "One, we're seniors."

Brady scoffed, lowering himself to the bumper and readjusting his bookbag. "Which only means that we've been trapped here for three long years."

"Ha, ha, ha." Kennedy fixed him with a glare before continuing. "Two, we're the three best players for a hockey team that is expected to make the state championship this year."

Now Devin felt a pin prick of doubt about his last year of high school creep into his head. "Can we not jinx it, please? All that means is that we have ten times as much pressure on us as we did last season when we were only expected to do okay."

Kennedy stomped forward a few steps, glaring at his friends. "You guys suck."

Checking his watch, Devin grabbed his satchel out of the backseat of his car and slung it across his chest. He gestured towards the building and they all started walking. "Did you only have two reasons?" He looked behind Kennedy's back at Brady and grinned. "Because I think we pretty much shut those two down without much trouble."

As they neared the back breezeway that lead from the parking lot into the school, Kennedy turned around, moving up the three stairs backwards, his eyes squinted. "I say again, you guys suck." He looked past his friends and waved at a girl who he had gone out with a few times over the summer. Remembering that he had promised to call her and hadn't he quickly averted his eyes back to Devin and Kent.

"So what class do you two losers have first?"

Brady consulted his schedule for the tenth time that morning. He was the OCD member of the threesome and was, they would all admit at the drop of a hat, the one that kept them in line the majority of the time. "I've got Physics." He groaned. "How on earth am I supposed to figure out science problems this early in the morning?"

Laughing, Kennedy shrugged. "Especially after an away game when we don't get back 'till midnight." He slapped Kent on the shoulder. "Good luck with that one, buddy. That's why you should've signed up to be a Teacher's Assistant first period, like me."

Now it was Devin who tipped his head back to laugh. "Just because you want to suck up to Mrs. Baysden so she doesn't give you crap about not doing your homework doesn't mean the rest of us need to waste a period." He looked down at his tattered piece of paper and sighed. "I've got AP English 12."

They had come to the junction of the hallway where Brady and Devin needed to head towards the second floor while Kennedy would make his way out to a temporary classroom behind the school. "That's what you get for having an English genius for your mother." Kennedy punched Devin lightly on the shoulder. "Sucker." He walked backwards down the hall giving a cocky wave and then a salute. "Later, fellas."

Devin and Kent started up the stairs. The girl who had been waving frantically at Kennedy as they left the parking lot jogged past them and they both watched her go before exchanging an amused look. Devin was the first to speak.

"I've got ten bucks that says she yells at Kennedy at lunch and bullies him into another date."

Brady looked at the spot where she had just passed on the stairs, his brow raised. "My ten says she just slaps him."

Devin laughed loudly and pushed his way into the crowded upstairs hallway.

"You're so on."

* * *

With a huge sign, Fulton rocked back in his office chair and stared out the window. The Boston sky-line was hazy with heat and as he watched cars inch past below, he interlocked his hands on top of his head and laughed out loud. 

He had just checked in with all four of his team coaches and every one of the kids signed up for the Broken Window Hockey program had made it to their first session. The shuttle system had worked out as planned. No one had skipped out. Day two might find it all coming apart at the seams, but for at least one day, everything had gone exactly as it was supposed to.

At the sound of the phone beeping, Fulton swung back around and snatched the receiver up off of the cradle, taking a moment to marvel at the fact that he, Fulton Reed, was working in an office – something he never thought he would do – and that his assistant was paging him from the office just outside of his.

"What's up, Brandon?"

Brandon Bishop was a local Boston teenager who had just graduated from high school. He had aspirations of going to college but found that his parents fell in that awkward category of making too much for him to qualify for need-based scholarships and too little to help him out at all. Well, that and the fact that they didn't care what he did, so long as he didn't ask them for anything.

Brandon was a really nice guy, trying to save up enough money to pay for his own education, and was working for Broken Window for a year full-time. Fulton was glad that the investors saw fit to help him provide a decent salary for someone who needed it so much.

"Fulton, the reporter from _The Globe_ is here. Do you want me to bring her in?"

"Yeah, man. That'd be great."

A few seconds later the door swung inward and Brandon, his half arm-sleeves in full view due to his short sleeved polo shirt, stepped in. He smiled broadly at Fulton. "Fulton, Claudia Evans to see you."

"'Preciate it." As Brandon backed out, Fulton lumbered around the desk, feeling a bit like an imposter in his khaki pants and button-up shirt. He normally would have been in a t-shirt with a blazer on hand for any 'dressier' occasions, but he had figured a newspaper reporter warranted a little more class. He stuck out his hand, surprised when Claudia Evans' grip was so strong that his fingers ground together. _Yikes._ "Ms. Evans. Nice to meet you."

She pumped his hand twice. "Likewise." All business, she sat down primly in one of the two extra chairs and then waited while Fulton arranged his long limbs back behind his desk. "That's quite an assistant you've got out there."

Fulton nodded. "Brandon's great. He's unreal with computers, so he's been managing the website."

She tilted her head sagely, her short cropped hair bounding around her middle-aged face. Fulton guessed she was in her late forties. "I meant that he didn't look the part of the normal assistant."

It took Fulton a moment to respond. First, he found himself surprised to be having a conversation about his assistant. Second, he had to think for a moment to remember what might be so different looking about Brandon.

"Ah, the tattoos?" Brandon sported a various array of colorful images from the elbow to the wrist on both arms. He had asked Fulton very early on in their working relationship if he preferred they be covered up. Fulton had answered without hesitation._ I have no problem with your ink, dude. It's up to you what you show and don't show._

Evans nodded. "Seems a bit much for a non-profit office, don't you think?" She clearly thought that Fulton would be automatically on her side. What that said to Fulton was that she hadn't done her homework before coming to interview him. Anyone who knew anything about Fulton Reed knew that he could care less about appearances. It was who a person was and what he or she did that mattered to him.

He involuntarily wrinkled his nose at her, already disliking the woman immensely. Crossing his legs he leaned back. "I wouldn't say that. He's great at his job. Isn't that the most important thing in a non-profit office?"

Shrugging, she pulled out a tape recorder and set it on the desk. "To each his own, I guess." She clicked her pen and made a small squiggle on her notepad. Never looking up, she hit the record button. "So, Mr. Reed. Tell me how you came up with the name Broken Window Hockey."

Understanding that press coverage was important to his goal, Fulton knew he had to deal with this woman. But at the same time, the rash side of Reed was fighting to take over. He wanted to scream at her to kiss his ass – and Brandon's likely tattooed one – and get the hell out. He most certainly didn't want to give her the insight into his life that the origin of Broken Window would provide.

He didn't want her to know that he had not been able to go home because his mom had been dealing, so he had stood in a dirty alley smacking street pucks at open trashcans for hours on end, more often than not missing the trash cans and breaking building and car windows. He also didn't want to tell her that one broken limo window had changed the path of his life.

He looked at her, perched in his chair and eyeing him suspiciously. He disliked her to her very core. But he knew that telling his story could help some of the kinds in this program that he had created. With a big sigh he glared at her once again and began.

"When I was twelve my mom was a junkie…"

* * *

They only had a week of school before hockey practice started every day and before the drama club would begin planning their big fall production. They only had a week of school before Devin and Annemarie were so busy that they would barely see each other until the weekends. Especially since they only had one class together and that was Spanish 4. The class where Senora Montena was insistent that no English would be spoken at **any** time for **any** reason. With Devin's total inability to grasp anything but the present tense, he was unlikely to have many meaningful conversations with his girlfriend while in Spanish. 

It was because of the impending time constraints that they had decided to do something that afternoon. Walking to Devin's car, Annemarie slid her hand into his, squeezing. "So what are we doing?"

Devin smiled down at her, pulling a ten dollar bill out of his pocket. "How about we go grab some milkshakes from R&J's and then head over to the lake and walk around." He grinned, waving the ten. "Brady's paying."

Annemarie shook her head, bumping him with her hip. "Don't you feel at all bad that you're laughing your way to the bank while Kennedy is at this very moment planning a date with a girl he doesn't even like?"

Taking her heavy backpack from her arms, Devin put both of their things in the backseat before opening the car door for her. He waited for her to slide in before he shut the latch and walked around to his side. He laughed once. "I don't feel bad at all. Maybe he should have called her like he said he was going to."

Watching kids walk by in front of the car as Devin started it, she laid her head back to let the hot sun beat down on her face. "He's a real ladies man, huh?"

Pulling out into the line of traffic, Devin hit the play button on his stereo to send "Never Enough" by Over It streaming through the speakers. He braked behind another car and turned to look at Annemarie. He leaned over and ran a hand slowly down her hair, smiling when she shivered at his touch. "Well, not everyone can be as smooth as me."

She opened her eyes to small slits and looked at him. "You're pretty smooth, I'll give you that." She leaned over and planted a firm kiss on his lips. "Love you, Dev."

He kissed her again for good measure before sliding his sunglasses out of his hair and onto his face. "Love you, too."

**

* * *

Torithy**: Stop reviewing my story and start writing more of your Road-Trippin' fanfic!!! Sorry, no pressure. I'm just so loving Cait in yours. Actually, I wish I could get this junk more vivid like yours. After 8 million chapters about these people I think I'm getting a little stale. Thanks for reviewing! 

**Hockey-girl90**: I'll be counting the days with you. I'm vacaying at the end of the month too.

**Johnny**: Thanks. I'm glad you guys like the Broken Window idea so much!

**Joshysgirl**: I cracked up when I read your review. A gift basket. Nice! I'll pretend next time I'm eating some fruit that it's from you. Hahah Sorry about the lack of Adam. Actually, I'm so out of ideas for him. Not sure how he's going to fit into my big finale, but if you have any ideas of how you'd like me to wrap things up for him, PLEASE let me know.


	36. Eh?

Disclaimer- I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

"I feel weird being without all the kids. Don't you?" Beau was sitting on the airplane, watching as nameless people filed past, trying to find their seats and hoping for space to shove their too big carry-on bags overhead. She was by the isle, liking the feeling of not being pinned in on one side. 

Charlie, who had been flipping through a _Rolling Stone_, closed it and looked over at her. "If by weird you mean fantastic and ecstatic," he grinned, "then yes." Beau smacked him gently in the chest so he amended. "Of course I miss them all, but it's good to get away, eh?"

Beau just stared at him for a long beat. Charlie wiggled his eyebrows. "Get it? The 'eh' is since we're flying to Canada."

She looked at him a little longer before pretending to motion to a flight attendant. "Ma'am? Is there anyway my husband can get off of the plane? I've decided to travel alone."

Charlie grabbed her long curly pony-tail and gave it a gentle yank. "Cute." He looked out the window again as the plane was pushed back from the terminal. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Beau tighten her seatbelt and then re-check it again. He reached out and stilled her hands with his own. "Looking forward to seeing Cole?"

Sufficiently distracted, Beau turned her palm up to entwine her fingers with his. "Oh man," It was an expression she had picked up from Devin. "I can't wait. It's been forever."

Raising his hands, Charlie grinned and signed slowly. "I can't wait to try out my signing on Darby."

Beau tried not to grimace. Like Devin, Charlie was less than impressive at picking up new languages, and signing was no different. He was getting there, but she had no doubt he would embarrass himself at some point. She smiled. "I'm sure she'll be very touched that you've been trying to learn."

"Heh." He rolled his eyes, flexing his fingers. "Trying. You mean kicking sign language's butt."

As the plane picked up speed and the nose started to pull up, Beau gripped her armrests. "Right."

* * *

"I'd think you'd be a bit more excited about a date with this beautiful young lady." Brian Mayland eyed his grandson before smiling at Annemarie. She was a lovely girl, currently clad in a small fitted white t-shirt, a skin-tight black cropped vest, dark wash jeans and red heels. 

From across the room where she was sitting on the floor with Riley and Chase, Aggie Mayland smiled. The girl clearly new how to put an outfit together. A fact which was obviously not lost on Devin as he had been eyeing her the whole time she had been in the living room. Now, though, he was shoving his hands in his pockets and groaning.

"This has nothing to do with being on a date with Annemarie." He glared at the entrance of the room where Kennedy was lounged against the door frame. "We were blackmailed into double dating with Smith and the girl from hell."

"Devin," Aggie admonished. "That's a terrible way to talk about the girl you guys are picking up in a few minutes."

He widened his eyes, pointing at Kennedy. "Grandma, you have no idea. This girl is clingy, obnoxious, and dumb as a brick."

Ready to get the nightmare of an evening underway, Annemarie played referee, holding up her hands, palms out. "I hate to say it, Mrs. Mayland, but she really is a disaster." She turned on her heel. "But she's Kennedy's disaster and he's drug us into it, so let's get on with it, huh?" She grabbed Devin's hand before waving at the two adults and blowing kisses as the twins who ran over to hug her legs good-bye. "Good night. It was really good to see both of you again."

Aggie hopped up lithely for a woman of her age and gave the girl a big hug. "You too, darlin'. Come visit us in North Carolina soon, okay?" She stuck out her cheek for Devin to kiss. When he obliged she patted his head, reaching way up to do so. "Behave yourself, Devin."

He grumbled as his girlfriend drug him towards the foyer. "I wouldn't have to worry about behaving myself if **someone** had just called Kimberly back four weeks ago." He was pulled past Kennedy where he had been quiet and smug in the doorway. He looked over his shoulder, stabbing a finger in his friend's direction. "Or if **someone** hadn't been such a big pussy and just told her no."

Alone now with Beau's parents Kennedy flashed a brilliant smile. "This should be fun!" He waved. "Night, folks."

After the front door closed Brian looked at his wife and the train set she was setting up with Chase. "That kid Kennedy is a real pain in the you-know-what isn't he?"

She laughed. "That's exactly why I like him."

* * *

"Get over here, Mayland." Cole had dropped his bags to the marble floor of the hotel lobby and was standing with his arms out. It was a good thing as Beau had dropped her things as well and had jumped up to hang around his neck and give him a bone crushing hug. 

Slowly ambling across the expansive room, two bags slung over his wide shoulders, Charlie shook his head. "How many times do I have to tell you, Procida? Her name is Conway now. What's it been? Like four years?"

Hefting Beau higher Cole spared Charlie a glance. "Oh, shut up, Charlie." He squeezed her one more time and then dropped her abruptly to the floor. Looking her up and down he smiled. "You look good."

Doing a little spin, Beau cocked out a hip. "Well, thank you very much." She mimicked his appraisal, her eyes eventually traveling up to his hair. It was longer than she could ever remember seeing it, falling into his eyes and curling over his ears in a way that managed to be both boyish and sexy at the same time. She reached up to finger a curl. "You don't look half bad yourself."

"And what am I, a piece of meat?" Charlie had dropped his bags and stood with his arms crossed.

Cole finally smiled over at him and extended a hand. "You look good too, you big baby." He laughed when Charlie grabbed his hand and pulled him into a quick hug.

"That's right. I do."

Beau picked her purse back up off of the floor and moved to stand next to Charlie, laying a hand on his shoulder. "That's my husband. Mr. Modest." She looked around. "Where's Darby?"

Cole crinkled up his face, looking around as well. "She was up in the room changing her clothes. She should be down any minute."

As if on cue, Darby stepped out of the elevator that had just slid open. Charlie had remembered that she was pretty, but he had forgotten that she was downright beautiful. Her long sleek hair shimmered in the light and was in such sharp contrast to her eyes that he could see their brilliant blue across the room.

It was also undeniable the way that Cole looked at her. His gaze was possessive and full of love and it made Beau immensely happy to see it. It was the way that Charlie looked at her. She felt so happy for the pair of them that it nearly drove her to tears.

Then Darby saw Beau and picked up her step, a dazzling smile spreading across her angular face. She raised her hands in hello and then hugged the other girl tightly. Backing up a step she started signing frantically. Laughing, Beau held up her hands.

"Whoa. I'm getting better, but you're going to have to slow way down." She grimaced. "Sorry."

Taking a long breath Darby made an effort to slow her motions. "Sorry. I was just saying how great it is to see you again." She turned to Charlie and took a step forward, obviously unsure if she should hug him. "You too, Charlie."

He smiled broadly, giving her the grin he subconsciously reserved for his closest friends and family, and then hugged her. Breaking the contact he looked around at his three companions and grinned even wider. He looked at Cole, speaking slowly so that Darby would be able to read his lips. "You are going to be so impressed."

Looking back down at the smaller girl, he raised his hands. Speaking while signing slowly he felt insanely proud of himself. "I've been psyched about hanging out with you. I'm dying to know what you see in Cole."

There was a very long silence in which they all just stared at him. Cole's mouth was hanging open. Darby pursed her lips. And Beau…well, Beau had covered her mouth with her hand, trying desperately to contain the laughter that was bubbling up mercilessly.

Charlie began to lose some confidence. He looked around at them. "What?"

Darby was the first to laugh out loud. She doubled over, her face breaking into a blushing mess as she held her stomach. Cole put a hand on her back, but had to pull it away again to wipe the tears that were leaking from his eyes as he laughed so hard that he was sucking in air in big gulps.

Beau put a hand on Charlie's back, laughing. "Oh, Conway. What are we going to do with you?" She giggled again, slapping a hand back over her mouth. She grinned up at him but he looked at her, completely bewildered.

"What?" When no one answered he raised his voice. "**What**?"

Beau, still laughing, looked around at the several other hotel guests who had gazed over at them and the commotion Charlie had made with his last question. She put a finger to her lips. "Shh!" She laughed again. "Geez." She took several long breaths. "You don't know what you said?"

Charlie glared at her, his eyes glinting. "I'd say that's a safe assumption since I'm not laughing like an idiot."

Cole smiled. "You said, and I quote, I'm a psycho for hanging out with you. I'm dying to see Cole inside of you." He reached out and put a finger under Charlie's chin, forcing it up so that he would close his mouth, which had been hanging open at the translation. "End quote."

Charlie looked back and forth from Cole to Darby and then down at the floor. Finally, feeling sorry for him, Darby took a step forward, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Thank you for trying, though." She stifled another laugh. "Why don't we get a drink?"

He nodded vigorously, sliding his hand around her waist and practically dragging her in the direction of the bar. "That would be really really good."

**

* * *

harumscarum**: Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it! I realized that I had left Fulton out forever, so I wanted to show him doing something kind of grown up and life changing. I'm super glad you guys all dig it. 

**Hockey-girl90**: Thanks! This will be the last update until the beginning of next week. Hope it will tide y'all over during the weekend.

**Johnny**: Thanks for being so loyal!

**Torithy**: Thanks so much. Compliments from you are very high on my list since I'm so impressed with your writing. You rock!

**Just a fan**: Thanks! I'm glad you've got yourself all prepared. I had planned to start the drama in this chapter but then got the suggestion of having Beau and Charlie take a weekend away and that's taken the forefront. Hope you enjoyed. Keep yourself ready, though. You never know when it's coming!

**Joshysgirl**: You are my ultimate inspiration, girl! Thanks again for all the great ideas. Expect to see a few of them…like Charlie in this chapter!


	37. This Is So Messed Up

Disclaimer- I do not own the Ducks. Don't you wish you could though? Your own little Quack Attack right there in your closet? Sorry…back to the point. I don't own them…just borrowing!

_Italics indicate character thought._

* * *

It was the longest meal that Devin could ever remember sitting through, and that included the one where his dad had blessed him out for failing a math test and then lying about it. They had been in the Italian restaurant for what seemed like several endless days and nights, but really had been about an hour. As he forked up the last bite of his pasta with hot sausage, he stared blankly at Kimberly sitting across from him and Annemarie. 

She had been talking for the majority of dinner, her clear topic of choice being - **herself**. They had discussed her favorite music, her favorite television show, her likes, her many dislikes, and anything else that involved her in any way, shape, or form.

Several times Devin and Annemarie had tried to steer the conversation away from her and towards anything else, but each time she skillfully and unabashedly brought it right back to the subject of Kimberly.

Currently she was droning on…and on…and on about why the girls dance team needed new skirts and tanks and how she thought it was downright unfair that they had been told there were no funds for new uniforms because of remodeling to the cafeteria at the school.

"I just don't understand why they have to make it bigger." Her voice bordered on whining and it was sending Devin's nerves straight up the wall.

Annemarie set her iced tea down with a sigh. She was in student government and felt the need to defend the cafeteria. "Well, it can only hold 200 people and there are 500 students per lunch, so we really could use the extra size."

Not hearing reason at all, Kimberly flicked a long section of blond hair over her shoulder. "Don't most people eat outside anyway?"

Devin piped in, happy to argue with her. "What about when it rains? Where should people go then, since we aren't allowed to eat in the hallways?"

She seemed to think about that for a minute before the muscles in her face went slack and she shrugged. "I dunno. I eat lunch every day with the rest of the dance team in our practice room, so I'm never really bothered by the rain."

And there it was. Because it didn't affect her, she didn't care. Devin sighed loudly and gave up. He looked over at Kennedy, thinking surely his friend was as fundamentally annoyed by this girl as he was, but Smith was happily sucking up the last strand of his fettuccini, a laugh in his eye. _Oh yeah_, he thought she was an idiot. But he was loving how frustrated Devin was. _Jackass._

They were all too happy to pay the check when the waiter brought it, but the real shock of the night was when Kimberly took a long, delicate sip of her water and sighed. "This has been **so** much fun!" Her voice was high pitched and while Devin usually tried to refrain from making judgments on people based on attributes they couldn't control, he wanted to tape her mouth shut every time she spoke. He wouldn't have been surprised to find a dog just outside the restaurant window howling in pain.

How could Kennedy have coped on a whole date alone with her over the summer, listening to her talk? Easy answer. Clearly they hadn't been doing much talking. He smiled ruefully at the thought, ignoring Kimberly's rambling and making a mental note to tell his friend he hoped the girl was at least a champion kisser. But then something she said caught his attention.

She sucked in an excited breath and turned to Kennedy, her fingers going up to play with his hair. "We should all get together and do this again tomorrow night!"

Like a vice, Annemarie's fingers dug into Devin's leg, and just to make sure she drove home the point, she stomped on his foot with her own. She had been relatively quite all night, a sure sign she was miserable. While Kimberly was busy pleading with Kennedy, who was doing a stellar job of being non-committal, he risked a glance at his girlfriend.

Annemarie was hilarious with her eyes wide, shaking her head almost imperceptibly back and forth. She tightened her grip on his leg, a feat he thought impossible since she was already likely leaving bruises, and urged him with her look to get them the hell out of spending any more time with the girl.

Thinking quick Devin played disappointed, shaking his head. "Oh man. I really wish we could, but my grandparents are in town and I don't get to see them much, so I need to hang out with them."

Kimberly pouted. "Boo." She turned her eyes to Annemarie, an idea visibly forming in her brain. "Hey! What about a girl's day?" She nodded enthusiastically. "We could get pedicures!"

For only the briefest of seconds a look crossed Annemarie's face that plainly said she would rather die than spend an hour with Kimberly getting pedicures. But then her acting talent kicked in and she rearranged her features into what looked like genuine regret. "Oh, that would have been really fun but I promised my mom that I would go shopping with her." She shrugged. "It sucks. I'm sorry."

Nonplussed, Kimberly shrugged, turning her full attention back to Kennedy, who had the decency to seem a little taken aback by the way that she was staring at him. "Guess it's just you and me, Kenny!"

Devin laughed out loud. He was **so** calling him 'Kenny' from now on. A name he knew, for absolute certain, that Kennedy would loath.

* * *

"That really was a classic Spazway moment!" Beau tipped back a shot to tequila and laughed again. 

Next to her at the table, Charlie glared mutinously at his wife. "Gee, honey. I sure am glad we took this weekend away so that you could humiliate me in front of our friends." He tossed back the rest of his drink, eyeing Cole as he translated into sign language. Ever since his big mistake, he had refused to try any more signing.

Darby reached out and patted his knee. "Don't be humiliated, Charlie. Everyone messes up something big when they first start trying out a new language." She glanced over at Cole who was shaking his head at her frantically. Feeling sorry for Charlie she opted for pissing off her boyfriend. "In fact, when Cole first started he repeatedly spelled out 'whore' instead of 'whole.'"

Cole's eyes widened. "Darby!" He rolled his eyes. "Damn, woman. No more secrets for you."

Beau laughed heartily, but Charlie looked unconvinced. "Really?"

After a huge sigh, a sip of his drink, and an eye roll, Cole spoke, his voice resigned. "Yes, really. And she let me go on doing it for **weeks** before she finally corrected me."

A sparkle in his eye, Charlie finally smiled. "Idiot."

Darby yawned, noting the time on her watch and signing. "If I'm going to make it up for that hike tomorrow," she pointed out the massive windows to Lake Louise and the surrounding mountains, "I better get some sleep." She leaned over, kissing Cole, her lips dancing lightly over his before she stood up. "You stay and catch up. I'll see you whenever you make it to the room."

Before she could walk off, Beau stood up, stretching. "I'm with Darby. You boys have fun." She wiggled her eyebrows, bending over to peck Charlie on the top of the head. "Try not to embarrass yourselves with any more verbal faux-pas." The girls walked off, laughing together.

Charlie couldn't resist calling after them. "Try not to embarrass **yourself** by using the word faux-pas again!"

He watched them disappear into the elevator and turned to see Cole staring at him with a smirk on his face. "Dude, that was such a lame come back."

Charlie shrugged, nodding when the waitress set another two shots on the table. He raised his glass, clinking it with Cole's. "Here's to being lame."

* * *

"Connie?" He had knocked on the bathroom door three times and when she didn't answer again, Guy began to get worried. "Connie?" His voice cracked a bit with worry and he tapped his knuckles more insistently against the woodgrain panel between him and wife. "Seriously, Cons. I'm getting really worried out here. Can you please open the door?" He signed. "Or at least say something." 

He raised his fist to knock again but before he could, the door swung inward and Connie was standing in front of him, her face slack and her color ashen. She was staring at a point somewhere on his chest, and even though he ducked his head to try and intercept her line of sight, she slipped around him, avoiding all eye contact.

Totally silent, Connie Moreau sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, her long brown hair falling around her face like a veil.

Guy was terrified. He had never seen her look quite like she did and it was scaring the hell out of him. He tried her name again. "Connie? Sweetie?" She usually hated being called by pet names, but even that infraction didn't pull her out of her stupor. If Guy had been hoping for some explanation, he would have to be happy with the nod she gave, indicating the bathroom door. He was perplexed.

"What is it?" Again she just jerked her head towards the bathroom they had been sharing since their marriage. He looked over his shoulder, finally turning around and venturing onto the tile floor.

Guy looked around, not sure what he was expecting to see. He was half worried that there would be some pool of blood or another grotesque display, but Connie looked physically fine, other than her nearly transparent color. Glancing at himself in the mirror, his eye finally caught something he was not used to seeing in his space.

On the laminate counter there was an open box and a white plastic stick. Knowing immediately what it was, Guy still found it hard to reconcile the idea in his head. He took a tentative step forward, almost afraid to touch.

Finally, he reached out a hand and gingerly plucked the test strip up. It wasn't one of the old kind where you had to know what pink or blue meant, or where your entire future was left up to a series of lines or a plus or minus. This was the new top of the line technology. Looking down at the tiny digital window, Guy Germaine felt his heart drop like a stone into his stomach and then sore back up, taking him higher than he could ever remember feeling. A huge smile on his face, Guy read the tiny word… 'pregnant.'

* * *

Beau had not really been that tired when she had gone back upstairs in the hotel with Darby. She had been buzzing a little on her drinks and had been reveling in the idea of a long hot bath and a bit of time alone…**completely** alone. No kids, no dog, no worries. 

The weekend away with Darby and Cole had been just what she needed. Things had seemed exhausting lately. She was insanely happy – happier than she thought it was probably normal to be. But she also felt like she hadn't slept in the past two years since the twins had been born.

Two toddlers, one very active teenager, a child-like husband, and a book career did not add up to a restful lifestyle. Not that Beau would trade one minute of it for anything…but that didn't mean that a girl couldn't enjoy some time to herself.

Stepping out of the hot bathtub, she reached across to the counter and grabbed a massive thick terrycloth towel. Humming a little to herself, she patted her face before wrapping the whole thing around her body.

From a little bottle she had unpacked earlier she did something she rarely took the time for anymore. She poured out a lavish amount of verbena and citrus lotion and smoothed it over her legs and arms, reveling in the silkiness.

Relaxed but awake, Beau moved into the main area of the room and plugged her mp3 player into the stereo that came equipped in every suite. She turned the volume up and closed her eyes, dropping her head back.

The driving beat of Brand New started pouring through the speakers as Beau tapped her foot in time with one of her all time favorite songs, "Sic Transit Gloria." She had always loved the way that the track flowed from the bass heavy cadence with Jesse Lacey's almost monotonous chanted vocals right into a blistering guitar laden chorus.

Giving herself over to the music that had always been a driving part of her life, Beau began dancing around the room, her eyes closed, her mouth moving in time with the words. Totally lost in the sound, she didn't hear Charlie when he came in through the hallway door.

Definitely feeling the effects of his drinks, Charlie had to shake his head once to make sure that what he was seeing was real. He leaned a hand against the wall and ran the other over his hair. His gorgeous wife was dressed in nothing but a thigh length towel, her hair down around her shoulders, wet at the ends…and she was dancing.

He had always loved to watch her dance. She possessed a rhythm that he had never been blessed with, and she was most definitely using it now. Her hips moved in a sinuous back and forth pulse that had him blowing out a breath and biting his lip. She quietly sung along to the words, "Hear a boy bracing tight against sheets barely whisper." She ran a hand down her body, still singing, "This…is…so…messed…up."

Charlie felt his knees want to buckle and he was completely consumed with love and desire for her. Despite the haze he felt surrounding him, he had a moment to register how unreal it was that after so many years of being together she could still turn him on like no one else.

Unable to take anymore, he cleared his throat and enjoyed watching as she jumped a little, her eyes widening and then darkening with pleasure as she realized that he had been watching her. She licked her bottom lip before smiling. "Hey."

Charlie took a few steps forward. "Hey yourself." He let his eyes travel up and down her body before running a hand possessively over her shoulder, down her arm, and to her lower back.

Beau looked up at him, her eyes clear, and noticed the slight sheen of intoxication in his eyes. Whether it was from her or the alcohol, she wasn't sure.

She thought back to a night long ago – the first time they had drunk tequila shots together, and remembered the way it had felt to have his eyes on her while she was dancing with Jesse Hall in the living room of the house the boys had all shared. She remembered walking over to him and dragging him to the dance floor. She remembered the first time she felt his body pressed to hers. Thinking back, she remembered what he had said to her and mimicked it back to him now.

"Charlie, how drunk are you?" She had raised her hands up to hook her index fingers in the waistband of his low-slung jeans, her pinky fingers playing against the skin beneath his t-shirt.

She saw him consider and was completely aware when he realized what memory she had stolen her question from. He grinned his Charlie grin and she felt her heart pound against her chest. His voice was low when he answered, his eyes on hers.

"I know what I'm doing and I'll remember what I did when I wake up tomorrow."

A light flickered in Beau's eyes as she let her towel fall to the floor. "Good."

**

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**Author Note: Thank you so much to whoever suggested/requested some Beau/Charlie fluff. I've been in a serious funk and writing this little interaction between them was a blast! Thanks!**

**Johnny**: I'm like that too. Once I find something, I stick with it. Thanks for sticking with this!

**Hockey-girl90**: Glad you liked it. Yes, Charlie is doomed to a life of embarrassment.

**Just a fan**: Thanks for all the great validation. I'm kind of fond of Kennedy myself, so I'm glad that you like him.

**Joshysgirl**: I tried and tried to fit in your line but it felt so forced, so I finally gave up! Know that I wanted to, though! Hahah

**Torithy**: Now who's blushing?!? Thanks a lot!

**Kay234**: I am completely flattered. THANKS!

**Joanoa**: Sorry for the confusion. I sometimes get ahead of myself and think things are clear when they probably aren't. When they were on the plane Charlie mentioned that they were just taking a weekend away. They are just on a weekend vacation at Lake Louise in Canada with Darby and Cole. Sorry! And I'm really glad that you are enjoying Charlie. He is my absolute favorite to write, with Devin a very close second.

**Sphinx005**: Glad you liked! I can honestly say that the double date was pulled directly from my own life. Shame my boyfriend wasn't more like Devin, though, right??


	38. Author Note

So…in cleaning out my computer I came across this fic and Everything's Eventual and couldn't believe I had COMPLETELY forgotten about them. I haven't written any fics in over 3 or 4 years, but just fell in love with Beau and Cole and everyone while rereading. I don't know that I really have the time, honestly, but have a few ideas bouncing around in my brain.

I guess I wanted to see if there was anyone out there still even interested in this story. And if you are…where do you want to see it go?

And for whoever it was out there who put Everything's Eventual on your Kindle…that completely made my day. MADE IT!

Thanks a ton,

punkteacher


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